The Arrangement
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: BSG Season 3: After seeing the president and the admiral fight once again, the Quorum with the help of Tom Zarek decides on an appropriate arrangement for Roslin and Adama.
1. Presenting the deal

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Louis Acton's Philosophies of Ethics Behind the Lines is mine, as is Kyle Worgran.

The Arrangement

Chapter 1: Presenting the deal

They stood around the president's desk a few days after almost delivering a biogenic weapon to the Cylon resurrection ship. After other matters were discussed, one man was not planning to beat around the bush.

"What's our policy going to be on biogenic warfare?" Captain Lee Adama asked.

"We will continue our research in order to stop the Cylons by any means possible," President Laura Roslin replied.

Admiral William Adama shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Madame President, I would advise against that without further discussion with the military.

She eyed him with annoyance until their gazes locked in a draw. "This is my call to make when I am considering the welfare of the colonies."

"At what cost? You know, you've got a bloodthirsty streak that's really distasteful," the admiral told her. Adama had battled enough for what was actually right and after having the decision made for them, the president was still unwilling to concede that she had been wrong.

He stood where he was, across the desk from her. She rose to her feet and faced him, leaning on the table with her fingers spread out in front of her. "You always take the moral high ground, while I have to stay down here and make the hard decisions!" she retorted.

"This isn't about who makes the decisions. It's about what it makes us if we allow ourselves to stoop to their level and promote genocide!" he countered, becoming more irate.

The others in the room watched in silence, not wanting to face the furry of either of them. Roslin was not finished. "This is about preserving the human race and making sure that Earth also remains safe! Further research can still be done to-"

He interrupted her. "I told you the book was closed on this! I will not allow research for a biological weapon of this magnitude to go any further than it already has!"

"And what if the decision is not yours to make?" she threw back. The others trickled out of the room, figuring that an explosion was possible at any moment.

He glowered at her. "Do you really want to divide the fleet again over this? Or do I have to arrest you again so that you'll listen to me? You used to know that things like this are wrong. It seems that I don't know you anymore!"

His words cut into her enough so that she took a deep breath and looked down at the table for a moment. "It would seem that I no longer know myself, if I have lost your respect," she whispered, not looking up.

Sighing and shaking his head, he realized that they were the only people in the room. "I was shot by one of Sharon's avatars. I was able to realize that they aren't all alike, that some of them can make the right decision. I'm only asking the same when it comes to humans. There's only one of you, yes, but which one am I talking to?" he asked quietly.

She looked him in the eyes and swallowed. "The one who is tired of running, who wants to fight back, but also the one who does not remember how to trust her instincts and keeps falling back on old presidential prerogatives."

He made his way over to her side of the desk. "And what do your instincts tell you?"

"That you were right," she admitted. "There has to be another way that doesn't include stooping to their level."

"So do we have a truce between us again though? We did manage to clear the room," he reminded with a wry smile.

She nodded and the two shook hands. As they made their way out of the room, he turned to his left and spoke to her. "I've got a couple of books you might be interested in if you'd like to stop by my quarters for a drink. I'll even take you back to _Colonial One_ myself."

Smirking, she shook her head. "We've just left a louder argument than we have had in a while and now you're inviting me over for a drink. Is there a catch to this?"

He chuckled. "You're becoming far too suspicious Laura. Just because I argue with my friend doesn't mean that we can't make peace over a drink and a good book."

"Alright, let's go," she said with a smile.

Taking his arm, she left her ship for _Galactica_ and they were at the admiral's quarters shortly, having met with the usual polite nods from passers by. He opened the door and stated, "After you, Madame President," more for show than decorum.

"Why thank you, Admiral," she added as she entered.

He went over to his small kitchen and found a bottle of the orange stuff along with two glasses. She had been looking at the pictures on his desk when he returned. After she had accepted the glass, he turned to the bookshelf and removed a well-worn slim green book. She raised an eyebrow and read the title when he handed it to her. The book was Philosophies of Ethics Behind the Lines by Louis Acton.

"I think you'll find that book interesting," Adama commented.

Roslin set her glass down to flip through the book. "Who was Louis Acton?"

The admiral took his seat on the couch after offering her to do the same. "Acton was a colonel. I think that by reading the book, it'll help you understand some of what I've been talking about regarding existence and genocide. It was required reading when I was a cadet," he relayed.

She looked the book over again thoughtfully and finally answered, "Alright then, I suppose it couldn't hurt. You have yet to recommend a bad book to me. In fact, you really ought to run your own library."

He grinned and lifted his glass. "Let's toast to good books then."

"To good books," she stated as their glasses clinked. The orange liquid was refreshing, with a bit of a kick to it. After a moment she faced him again. "I thought you told me that you had more than one book to show me," she reminded.

At first she thought he might be stretching, but then his right arm brushed her shoulders. _I don't remember anything about this being a date_, she mused. Then she realized that he was actually reaching past her to get a book on the end table by the lamp. _I think I need a day off. My mind is wandering too much_, she concluded as he handed her the book.

He read her expression of confusion and embarrassment and let his own mind wander a bit before explaining the book. _It would have been more fun if I'd been reaching for her instead of the book_. "This book has quotations from former presidents as well as military leaders."

She took a gulp from her glass. "Is this yet another method to persuade me to agree with you more often?"

Shaking his head, he took the book and opened it to a page. "Actually I thought you'd find this book amusing. Here's one from Colonel Acton himself, 'When taking fire from a ground fight with an enemy, make sure your weapon's loaded and that your uniform's always zipped. The last thing you want to do is be running from an enemy in your boxers.'"

Roslin tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. "Oh my, are most of them like that?" she asked in between laughs.

He chuckled and grinned. "If you thought that was funny, you'll really get a kick out of what the presidents in this book say. Here's one from the former president Kyle Worgran: 'Politicians and reports both deal with dirty laundry, either airing it out, or trying to hide it; the glitch is that neither side actually wants to clean it.' And here's another from him: 'When running for office, never where white pants to public events.'"

Both laughed and eventually she had to catch her breath. "Both of those are true to some extent," she remarked.

"So is the one by Acton. Let's find a few more military once," he commented, flipping through the book again.

It was 2:00 in the morning when he set the book down. She yawned and stood, taking the philosophy book with her. "Well, this was fun Bill, but I should return to my ship now."

He stood and offered her his arm. "I'll walk you back," he offered.

She took his arm and the two started walking down the corridor, unaware that a reporter who could not sleep had been walking by with his camera. They conversed on their way back to Colonial One. "I hope you'll read that book. As I said before, it might help you understand my perspective a little more," he mentioned.

"You've certainly convinced me that Colonel Acton is worth reading," she told him.

"His advice isn't too bad either," Adama stated.

Roslin smirked and he realized that it was mischief he was seeing. "Let's just hope that you military men follow Colonel Acton's advice and keep your pants on," she relayed. Her comment made him laugh heartily. She followed suit and it took them a while to regain their breath. Neither heard the camera snap, nor the reporter doubling over in laughter as they made their way to the other ship.

In the morning Roslin had scheduled another meeting to clear up a few of the questions from the previous one. She stood at her desk in _Colonial One_ surrounded by the familiar group. Lee greeted her with a mischievous grin. "Well Madame President, I take it that you and the admiral zipped up yesterday's disagreement?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you could put it that way." Looking back at Adama she whispered, "Did I miss something this morning?"

He glanced around the room and noticed the odd looks everyone was giving them. "I think we both did," he answered.

Turning to address the group, she spoke again. "I just wanted to establish our policy on biogenic weapons. Though we may look into matters in theory, the book will be closed in the testing and practices in these devices. We are humans and there will be better ways of dealing with the Cylons other than mass eradication. One thing that makes our humanity great is that we will not stoop to their level. Thank you."

Those there applauded her decision and two men from the press off to her left talked to each other. "Guess we know who slept on the couch tonight," one said.

Roslin overheard the comment and turned to face the men. "This is an important discussion, not a gossip column. If you two would prefer to gossip, then you can go outside," she told them, as if they were school-age children.

Adama noticed that the two had a newspaper. He walked over behind them and put out his hand. "Gentlemen, may I see that?" he ordered. Reluctantly they gave it to him and to the untrained eye, he looked it over impassively. To Roslin and Lee, he scrutinized it and was not pleased with what he had read. Eventually he looked up and walked over the president. "I think you should read this," he said, handing her the paper.

She gasped as she saw the article. The headline read: "President reminds the Admiral to keep his pants on." The article went on to describe how a reporter had seen them leaving Adama's quarters at 2:00. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment to think. When she opened them, she knew exactly what she wanted.

"Looks like the story caught a couple of people with their pants down," someone muttered.

Facing the two men from the press, she crossed her arms. "Gentlemen, I want whomever is responsible for this article to write an immediate retraction, and I would like a letter of apology, to myself as well as the admiral. This is not a request," she stated in an even tone.

The men nodded and the meeting continued. At the end of it the others left and Adama stayed behind. "Bill, I am really getting tired of press's lack of decorum," she relayed.

He nodded in agreement. "The good thing is that if this is the best story they can come up with, it means that nothing worse is going on at the moment."

"As true as that is, this story is incredibly embarrassing. I can't even joke with you without raising suspicion," she conveyed with a sigh.

"I'd like to know what that reporter was doing out so late," he added as they left the room.

On the morning of the following day, Roslin received a message after breakfast. "Hello Madame President. The Quorum wants to speak with you on a particular matter of concern. Please come by at 01100. Zarek out," the regrettably familiar voice said.

When she reached _Galactica_, the admiral found the president as he sauntered through the corridor. "I take it you're heading to the Quorum as well?" Adama inquired.

Roslin nodded. "Do you know what any of this is about?"

"No, but if Tom Zarek is involved, we can bet we're going to have trouble," Adama reminded.

They entered the room to find all the representatives present, and Tom Zarek standing in front of them all. "Zarek, what's this all about?" Adama questioned, his cold gaze never leaving the former convict.

"Why don't you two come in and have a seat. Then I'll explain everything," he replied calmly, noticing that neither Adama nor Roslin trusted him. Once the two leaders were seated, Zarek resumed his speech. "It's common knowledge that you two have recently had a harsh disagreement regarding decisions. Are either of you aware that whenever you two have a monumental disagreement, the colonists and even the military seem to divide? Need I remind you about what happened with Kobol?"

Roslin sighed, attempting to keep her patience. "Please, Mr. Zarek, can you get to the point?" she inquired with restraint.

The man walked closer to them. "Very well. Madame President, Admiral Adama, it is this Quorum's opinion that the two of you need to prove that though you may disagree, you have common goals for the colonists. We here feel that it would be in the colony's best interests if you two were married, as the ultimate gesture of unity."

Roslin was too caught off guard to speak. Adama glared at the Sagittarian representative. "What! Was this your bright idea, or did you need help?"

The president recovered her composure and put a hand up to stop what was looking to be a heated argument between her military chief and Zarek. "Does the Quorum realize that this… proposal poses quite a conflict of interest?"

Zarek had a small triumphant grin. "Madame President, this _is_ in the best interests of the fleet and the colonists. If you two were… involved somehow, it would show great trust and support between the fleet and the government."

"Has anyone here been reading the newspapers? The press already thinks we've been indiscreet. What more can we do that the press hasn't already tried?" Adama pointed out. Roslin hid a smirk, realizing the implications of what he had just said without knowing it.

Prepared for this, Zarek looked from one to the other and then faced the Quorum. "We all think that a president really ought to be married, don't we?" The others nodded collectively. "You see, admiral, this is about finding more ways to strengthen the bonds between the government and the colonies. I'm sure you'd understand better if you were a representative from one of the planets."

Adama leaned close to Roslin and whispered, "Someone's either been bribing a lot of people, or they're all brainwashed." She nodded in agreement as they turned back to their adversary.

"If you two marry, we can all trust that you aren't Cylons either," Zarek charged.

Roslin rolled her eyes at the comment. "There's also a little matter called protocol," the admiral reminded.

Zarek snickered. "It's not like we expect you two to kiss through the corridors. A wedding and acknowledgment that you two are espoused to each other would be sufficient. Of course if this will truly be a problem, there are other ways to demonstrate unity between the government and the colonies."

Adama wanted to retaliate verbally again, but Roslin put a hand over his before facing the Quorum. "Could we please be allowed some time to discuss this?"

The former convict nodded. "We'll give you two thirty minutes."


	2. Negotiations and resolutions

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"The only thing worse than fraternizing with your enemies is marrying them." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 2: Negotiations and resolutions

The two leaders stepped into a side room and shut the door. "Why is he doing this? There's no point," Adama relayed, pacing.

Roslin thought for a moment. "He's playing a game of sorts. He wants us to either choose to marry, or not to, but it's definitely a game to get himself into a place of power and influence. The question is which one does he want us to choose?"

Adama stopped pacing and stood in front of her. "I think the question is more like which one does he think we'll choose?"

"It seems that your question of 'has the world gone mad?' is still appropriate here. If we marry, it might stir up a good deal of controversy, but it's what the Quorum wants and they don't seem to be bothered by conflicts of interest. If we fight this, he's going to do something to discredit us, or at least that's how this looks to me," Roslin explained.

"Either way he could do a lot to discredit us," the admiral reminded.

"What I would like do know is how he managed to convince the Quorum that this was a good idea," the president added wryly.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Adama sighed and tried to concentrate on an alternative solution. The truth was that though they fought, he was attracted to her, though he would never admit to it. She stared down at her hands, mulling through her own thoughts, knowing that though the entire situation seemed almost ridiculous, she was attracted to him, but would never admit it.

Adama suddenly looked up and faced her again. "Wait, Zarek kept mentioning that it's you the Quorum wants to marry off. Can you think of any particular reason why that would be important, aside from the fact that you sided with me and didn't give him the vice presidency?" the admiral questioned.

The whole situation was causing her neck to ache and she rubbed it as she thought. _I wonder if she'd let me help her with that_, he mused as he stepped closer to her. Tentatively he touched her shoulders. The contact may have surprised her, but she did not let on. _That feels so good_, she mused. He massaged her neck until she put a hand on his.

"Thank you. I feel like one of those women in the history books whose parents have arranged a marriage for her without telling her. The only thing I have to say though is that I'm glad I'm not related in any way to Zarek. It doesn't make any sense that he would…" she trailed off, looking off in thought.

"What is it?" Adama probed.

She turned back to face him. "It might be nothing, or it might answer our question. There is a law regarding spouses and government. In the event of a government official's death, the spouse may serve the remainder of the term," she answered.

Adama moved a hand to his chin. "We know that Zarek wants power out of this, but if I married you, he wouldn't be any better off," then Adama realized the connection. "Which means that he thinks we'll fight the Quorum about this and go our separate ways, leaving an option open for him to marry you under the pretext of unity for the government and colonies."

She paced back and forth for a moment. "I really wish I had been able to find a suitable candidate for the vice presidency. Could that really be what he intends though?"

"We know he wants something, and at the very least it would be easier to watch each other's backs," Adama pointed out.

Roslin ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "If I'm stuck marrying him, he could have me assassinated and if the law is still in affect, become president again."

_I'd let that happen over my dead body_. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. "In that case, I think we should go ahead with what's been suggested, even it it's a marriage only in name, in order to keep Zarek away from you," he told her rationally.

She let the ramifications of what he had just said sink in before she responded. "You know, I think I've heard better proposals," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled and took her hands in his. "If it'll please your sense of decorum, Laura Roslin, will you marry me?"

A small, resolute smile crossed her face. "Yes."

_It's only temporary. We should be able to resolve this in a couple of months_, he thought to himself. "Shall we go back and face the inquisition?"

"I suppose," she replied.

When they exited the room, Roslin had looped her arm through the crook of Adama's arm. They faced Zarek and the Quorum with a confidence that he had not expected. "Mr. Zarek, we have decided that the marriage between myself and Admiral Adama would be in the colonies' best interests," Roslin remarked.

The other man seemed to stare at the two for a moment. "You're not going to dispute this?"

"Why fight what the _Quorum_ thinks is best?" she threw back.

He seemed to hesitate, but then recovered himself. "I'm glad that we were all able to reach a civil solution. The Quorum gives you one month to pick a date, on the grounds that this should be done as quickly as possible."

The press, politicians, and several military officers were in attendance. Though Adama and Roslin had wanted a simple wedding, the Quorum had insisted on one with a large attendance. Lee was his father's best man and Captain Kara Thrace was the president's made of honor. Colonel Tigh walked Roslin down the isle and the admiral nodded politely when she stood with him. He wore his formal military uniform, which she thought looked dashing on him. She had managed to find a cream-colored dress suit and have a veil made at the last minute.

Tom Zarek stood off to the side, next to a reporter. "You did well, Marley," he told the slight man.

Marley looked over at his boss. "But I thought you wanted me to get the picture and the story so that they wouldn't-"

Zarek cut him off. "That was an error on my part, but things will still go according to plan."

Both Adama and Roslin felt the awkwardness of the situation as they tried to mask it. He slowly lifted the veil and they exchanged shy smiles that read, 'I don't know about this, but here we go.' The wedding bands were simple gold rings and when they kissed at the end it was gentle and quick. However, the wedding reception ended up being a boisterous affair as soon as Lee's speech ended.

He had stood, looking at his father, and then the president. "As best man, I'm supposed to make a toast, but I'll keep it short. I should have known it'd be something like this, or you two would've killed each other by now. Madame President, welcome to the family," he concluded.

Through the shouts, cheers, and drinking, she looked over at the man she had just married and whispered, "We have to remember to tell Lee the truth."

He nodded. "You're probably right, but having him not know will help us keep up pretenses." As they faced the crowd again, he commented, "Something is missing."

The answer came when Lee handed him a knife. "Dad, you two are supposed to cut the cake," he reminded with a grin.

Adama and Roslin stood and together they cut the first few slices. Sitting back down, the admiral smiled, knowing exactly what was supposed to follow cutting the cake. The woman next to him raised her eyes in suspicion. He simply picked up the piece of cake in front of him and shoved it into her mouth, chuckling afterward. She rolled her eyes and looked for a napkin.

He leaned close to her and whispered, "You have cake all over your face dear."

She smirked and turned back to him, picking up the piece of cake in front of her. "I won't be the only one," she added, cramming the cake into his mouth.

Facing her, he sighed with exasperation as he also looked for a napkin. However, before they could remove all of the cake from their faces, someone who sounded like Lee shouted, "Food fight!" Kara hit him with her piece of cake before he hit her. Anastasia Adama, Dee, shook her head at her husband and sighed.

"I think it's time we made our escape," the admiral told the president, pulling her to her feet.

They dashed out of the mess hall and out into the corridor. Fortunately it was empty as they headed back to his quarters first. The plan was that they would spend the following two days aboard _Colonial One_ as their "honeymoon." Upon entering they headed over to his kitchen and began to clean each other up. He removed her glasses and she removed his as they used damp napkins to wipe each other's faces off.

"I wonder what possessed Lee to start a food fight," Roslin mentioned, laughing.

"I need you to hold still so I don't get cake in your eye," Adama told her. She took a deep breath and was able to stop laughing. "As we both know, Lee's good at surprising you every once in a while. Something tells me that it was a bet with Kara, judging by the fact that she fired at him first."

She wiped the cake from his chin. "I suppose that's that and we should head over to my ship."

He put his glasses back on and handed hers to her. "Alright then. My bag's-" he cut off, noticing a piece of frosting still on her glasses. "One of us missed a spot," he commented as he took her glasses, wiped them off, and gave them back to her.

Still remaining unnoticed in the corridor, the two made it over to _Colonial One_ and sat down in the passenger seats, thinking. After a while she decided that one of them should say something. "I think the ceremony went quite well. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

He nodded. "The wedding reception was fine too. I know the ring was simple, but I didn't have much time to-"

"The ring's fine, Bill. I like it," she relayed with a small smile. "The press behaved themselves. I actually got the letter of apology that I requested."

"Several of them waved, even participated in the food fight at the reception. I didn't spot Zarek there though. Just because we've come this far doesn't mean he won't try something else," Adama commented.

She leaned back in the chair, running her fingers through her hair. "We need specific information about his activities. I would ask Tory to help me, but I don't think that she could get close enough to Zarek."

"Lee might be able to. Somehow he thinks that Lee respects him and it might be the edge we need, which reminds me that I need to check with CIC on the Cylon activity reports," he told her as he sat forward with his arms resting on his knees before he stood. "I need to check on the repair reports too. I think we'll need to find metal deposits-"

She had stretched out in a feline manner and taken her shoes off. Seeing him stand, she also rose, grasping his forearm and interrupting him. "Bill, I don't want to talk about duties anymore. They gave us two days off. This… this 'honeymoon' or whatever you want to call it is a two-day holiday, and I intend to take full advantage of it," she ended with a smirk.

_This is going to be interesting_. "And what then do you presume we do for the next two days?" he questioned, sitting across the isle from her.

She sat and rested her left elbow on the armrest, with her chin on her fist. "We relax. It's been so long since I have had a good day off. They don't expect us to be working."

Her persuasion was working. He smiled and faced her. "Alright Laura, this is your ship, what do you want to do?"

She thought for a moment and then the idea came to her. "Teach me pyramids," she said simply.

"Any particular reason why you want to learn that?" he asked, remembering that he had brought a pyramids set in his bag.

"I figured that if we want to keep up appearances, I would end up at one of your games once in a while," she replied.

_I wonder what else she's planning on inviting herself to_. "I warn you that I won't go easy on you," he added.

"I didn't expect you to," she remarked.

He shrugged and retrieved the game. After teaching her and playing for three hours at her desk, he sat back and sighed. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Still think it's beginner's luck, Bill?" she teased.

"I can't believe you beat me again! Maybe I need new glasses," he complained.

She grinned wryly. "Never underestimate a president, add that one to your quote book."

He shook his head and returned her smile. "I brought a couple of those books with me."

"Since we can't get into any more trouble than we already have for those quotes, are there any more from Colonel Acton by any chance?" she inquired.

He chuckled. "Of course, and I brought a bottle of the orange stuff too."

Later they were on her couch, laughing about the quotes again while downing the orange liquid. The evening was growing later and he knew that he needed to ask her a question. "Laura, where am I sleeping?"

She thought for a moment before replying, "You can have my bed and I'll take Tory's. She's staying with friends while we're here."

Over the next two days they talked about childhoods, family stories, things they wished that they had done differently, everything except their current work or duties. At the end of the second day, there was another question that he needed the answer to.

"Laura, where are we staying now?" the admiral asked. "You can't just stay on _Colonial One_ anymore because it would confuse people."

She paced the room, considering his words. "You're right. Couldn't we both stay here?"

"I need to be on _Galactica_ in order to maintain command and to know what's going on over there. Saul can only handle so much and if my quarters are anywhere else, it'd be hard to get a hold of me," he pointed out.

"And I have matters of state here," she reminded.

He gave her a half-smile. "Then we'll have to find a compromise on this, won't we?"

She looked at her hands in thought. _We are each needed in our own places, but this marriage needs to look legitimate. It would be nice to stay in quarters that are designed to be quarters. As much as it is important for me to be here, the truth is that he needs to be on Galactica more than I need to be on Colonial One_. "I'll go with you to your quarters," she acquiesced, "for part of the week. I'll spend one or two full days here during the week, as well as my time during the day."

_That might actually work_. "Follow me then," he told her.

They left _Colonial One_ with several of her things. When they reached his quarters, he moved a few things around and was able to let her have her own closet. She hung up her clothes in the closet and raised an eyebrow as she watched him grabbing a few blankets from a smaller closet and taking them out to the living room. "Bill, where are you going?" she inquired.

He set the blankets down on the couch and turned back to her. "I'm sleeping on the couch of course."

Making her way toward him, she shook her head. "I appreciate the gesture, but these are your quarters, and I think that I should be the one sleeping on the couch. After all, I am a guest here."

"Laura, do you realize what it would look like if someone needed to come by for something and you were on the couch? It will help us keep up appearances better if I'm the one on the couch," he explained.

Nodding, she headed back to the bedroom to dress for bed. _ It really wouldn't be too bad if he could join me. It's an awfully lonely room not to share_, she thought as she crawled under the standard gray covers.

Adama stretched uncomfortably on the couch and stared up at his ceiling. _Maybe I should have suggested a better sleeping arrangement_, he thought wryly before closing his eyes.

A shriek caused him to sit up straight and almost jump off of the couch. He rushed into the bedroom, expecting to find an intruder that had somehow gotten past him. Instead he found her tossing and turning. Coming to her side of the bed, he rubber her shoulders, trying to wake her up.

"Laura, Laura, it's just a dream," he coaxed.

It worked and she sat up straight as he had, looking around the dark room and breathing heavily. "I'm sorry if I woke you, Bill. It was just a nightmare," she remarked. After standing and finding her bathrobe, she left the room and headed toward the kitchen. "I think I'll just have a glass of water and head back to bed."

He followed her out and poured them both glasses of water. "Does that happen often, the nightmares?" he asked as he handed her a glass.

She took it and sipped the clear liquid. "Actually I only have violent nightmares like that when I'm sleeping in a new place. They'll go away though."

Raising an eyebrow, he watched her collect herself as she finished her water. "And how long does that usually take?"

"It can take two, even three weeks," she admitted as she set the glass on the counter.

He downed his water and faced her. "That's not good enough. We need a better plan than this, or someone's going to hear you scream and think that I'm torturing you. And what's so funny?"

The thought of anyone thinking that he would ever actually harm her was amusing. She smiled and stated, "Anyone who thinks that doesn't know you very well."

"It's nice to know that you trust me, but with our history for arguments, people might talk anyway. We've got a lot of suspicious people here though who could get the wrong idea," he reminded her.

She sighed and eyed him wearily, blinking at him a few times. "Then what do you suggest?"

_It's either now or never_. "You're having nightmares because you're in a new place and you feel alone, probably defenseless too," he began, looking to her to see if he should continue.

She lightly crossed her arms in front of her because the room was cooler than she was ready for. "Go on, so far you've got it right."

As he took a deep breath, she began to worry about this idea of his that he had yet to actually mention. "Forgive the forwardness of this, but if you weren't sleeping alone, then maybe you'd have less nightmares," he managed.

_He actually said it; I can't believe he just said it_. Her eyebrows nearly shot past her hairline. "Did you just suggest that we share the bed?" her tone was a mixture of confusion and shock.

He cleared his throat and looked away, quietly stating, "Yes."

She blinked again, this time with irritation. "Marriage in name only, you said. Did you plan on this? I didn't think you would-"

_I guess trust only goes so far_. "Laura, I'm not the one with nightmares. If this is going to work at all, we are going to have to cooperate. I was only trying to suggest that you'd sleep better if you felt protected somehow. I'm sorry that I let you have my bed in the first place," he told her. Having been awakened by screaming and now having to argue with her again, he was in no mood to be patient.

_He's been a good host so far and now I've offended his honor. If we survive this, it'll be a miracle_. She looked away and examined her hands, thinking. At last she faced him and replied, "I suppose we could try it, for a while."

He was mortified that she actually agreed to it, but managed, "You can have one side and I'll take the other."

They sat on opposite sides of the bed after she had removed her bathrobe. Both taking deep breaths due to the vast uncertainties of this plan, they got underneath the covers and stared up at the ceiling. "Goodnight, Laura," he said, to which she answered, "Goodnight, Bill," before curling up into a ball and facing her side of the wall.

In the morning she heard an alarm clock sound. The first feeling that came to mind was a sense of being protected, and a sense of being warmer. As she opened her eyes and the room came into focus, she realized why: a stray arm was draped over her shoulders. She heard the owner of the arm grunt as she moved.

"Bill, Bill," she coaxed.

"What is it, Madame President, did I sleep through the meeting?" he asked with his eyes still shut.

She sat up and giggled. "Bill, your alarm clock is going off."

He sighed and reached over to turn it off, and then realized that they had been sleeping in the same bed. As he got up, he looked at her for a while, and then the events of the previous evening came back. "How did you sleep?" he asked as he reached into his closet to remove a uniform.

"Actually I slept much better. This experiment might be one of your better ideas," she told him as she opened the small closet that he had let her use to find something to wear. "It was interesting though to wake up with an arm that wasn't mine," she goaded him.

He blushed slightly and cleared his throat. "Sorry about that."

"I didn't say that I minded," she mentioned with a smirk as she took her clothes with her to the bathroom, leaving him staring after her with confusion.

"Marriage in name only, indeed. We'll see how long we survive this one," he commented under his breath.

(My thanks to Mariel3 and asouldreams for reviewing :D)


	3. For richer or poor

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. This show contains spoilers from the episode "Hero," of season 3 that will be marked with /…/.

"Every man makes mistakes, and he knows his true friends when he fraks up and they still forgive him." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 3: For richer or poor

It had been three days since she had moved into his quarters. That morning his alarm went off and he grumbled unintelligibly as he sat up. She woke and faced him, eying him curiously. "What's up Bill?"

_I just have a bad feeling about today_. "Sometimes you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed," he said gruffly.

"Well whose fault is that? If you wanted the other side, you could have said something," she scolded.

He smiled wryly at her. "Actually I think I just need a good cup of coffee."

"Now that is something I can do," she stated as she grabbed her bathroom and headed for the kitchen.

"Hey, I never said you could use my coffeepot," he said as he followed her.

She stopped direction in front of it and faced him with a smug grin. "I'll bet you a week's worth of credits that I can make better coffee than you."

He chuckled. "Forget the bet; I'd like to see you try. That old coffee pot gives everyone who uses it more trouble than it's worth."

"You know I enjoy a challenge," she added as she began to assemble the necessary ingredients. He shook his head and took his shower, figuring that he would have to teach her how to make coffee afterward

When he emerged in his uniform and stepped into the kitchen, she handed him a steaming mug. He raised an eyebrow and sniffed it. _It doesn't smell like poison, but you can't always be sure_, he thought. "Are you going to drink it, or test it for Cylon DNA?" she teased.

He scowled at her and took a drink. To his surprise, it tasted fantastic. The usual coffee taste was there, but so were several spices he would not have thought to put into coffee. It was sweet like an espresso he had ended up with once, but not too sweet. She sipped her coffee and looked back at him to gage his reaction. He did not want her to be too smug, so at first he scowled at her again. After knowing that he had disarmed her, he took another sip before facing her.

"I hate to admit it, but this is the best coffee I've had in years," he remarked.

"You're welcome," she replied with another smug grin before she left to take her shower. After the usual parting comments, she headed to _Colonial One_ while he sauntered toward CIC.

On _Colonial One_, Roslin sorted through some of her things, deciding what she wanted to move to Adama's quarters, with the help of her aide Tory Parker. /By accident, Roslin had found a drawer containing a dossier for the _Valkyrie_. After looking over a few other papers, she realized that the admiral had forty-five years of service. She decided that it might be nice to give him a medal./

/In CIC the admiral along with Colonel Saul Tigh watched with curiosity as two small Cylon ships chased another one. /"What the hell are they doing?"/ Adama asked.

Everything in him froze when the vessel being chased sent out a distress signal. _I thought this was finished a long time ago. I guess that everyone has to face their past sooner or later_, he rationalized before he gave the order to open the docking bay./

After Roslin met him, he and Adama talked as she observed. The debriefing was relaxed, but Adama wondered if the younger man knew. Daniel "Bulldog" Novacek did not end up as a prisoner in the way he had assumed, but Adama was not going to tell him that. They ate while the admiral debriefed him. /"You've got to talk to me, Danny. How the hell did you escape from the Cylon ship?"/

/Bulldog told them that the Cylons had a disease that he could not catch and he escaped by overpowering one of them. / After he left and the table was cleared, Roslin spoke. "He seems stable for someone who's been a prisoner of the Cylons, but I still think you should keep an eye on him," she recommended.

The admiral had been quiet, and she watched him, noting that he wore that stony mask of secrecy. Finally he mumbled, "It wasn't his fault; he's not the one you need to keep an eye on."

She crossed her arms. "Do you plan on making sense any time soon?"

He made his way over to his bookshelf and pulled out a worn album. "Lee's coming over soon," he said evasively.

As if on cue, there was a knock at his door. She opened the door for Lee and greeted him. "Hello Lee, how are you?"

He smiled politely. "Just fine, Madame President."

"I think it's alright if you call me 'Laura' when the rank isn't necessary," she related.

He nodded and looked past her. "Is my father in?"

"Yes, and I have some paperwork to tend to on _Colonial One_, so if you'll excuse me," she said, moving by him. Before completely exiting, she turned back toward the admiral. "We will talk later, Bill," she stated as she headed over to _Colonial One_.

"I wasn't trying to chase her out," Lee mentioned after Roslin had left.

Adama waived his hand dismissively. "You didn't."

"You two weren't fighting again, were you?" Lee questioned

His father shook his head. "No, I'll explain later. Right now I've got something else that I want to discuss with you."

Lee seemed to know where this was going. "It's about Bulldog, isn't it?"

When the admiral sighed, he seemed ten years older. /"I shot him down. My mission was to avoid detection, protect position."/

Lee eyed his father with concern as the older man added/"Our mission was to take a stealth recon ship over the Cylon armistice line."/

/The ugly truth began to unfold, that Bulldog got shot crossing the line by enemy ships, and Adama had shot Bulldog down so the other ship would avoid detection. /"I started it, initiated it"/ Adama revealed./

His son stared at the man he had come to respect with confusion, still finding the entire tale too strange to be true. /"Started what?"/ Lee inquired.

/"The attacks on the colonies"/ he relayed.

Seeing the guilt in his father's eyes, the younger man tried to say something that he thought might make a difference. /"You were one mission, one man"/

Adama looked haggard and old as he said/"Look what I did for them."/ Lee left shortly afterward, not knowing what else to say.

That evening, Adama lay on his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, while Roslin sat on hers. He had been too quiet all day for her sense of comfort. /"So the mission was regarding a possible war if ships got too close to Cylon armistice line?"/

/"He was my recon pilot, and it was an ambush,"/ the admiral muttered. /"I made a bad call. That ship was gone, he was dead, so I left him."/

_That wasn't the real answer, Bill_. /"So you gonna tell me what really

happened?"/

/"You're gonna have to trust me on this one; it's my mess, so I'll fix it"/ he answered gruffly.

She sighed heavily and shook her head, laying down and thinking for a while about what to say. "If you're going to keep shutting me out, then one of us will be sleeping on the couch. And I don't care if someone-" she stopped, realizing that he was not responding. "Bill? Bill, are you listening?" His light snoring was his only answer. "Men," she said in disgust as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

The next day Adama spoke with Tigh about Bulldog and the situation. /"Oh, I get it, oh yeah, this is gonna be complicated. Are you gonna tell him what ya did?" his old friend questioned./ He and the admiral both new that Adama had not intention of telling Bulldog the truth. /"He's gonna find out, it's gonna hurt later,"/ Tigh reminded as Adama left.

Bulldog sauntered from Tigh's quarters through the corridors, becoming more angry with each footstep, having learned the truth for himself while drinking with the colonel. He turned a corner and rammed into Tom Zarek. The former convict studied the irate man before him. "Are you looking for someone, Lieutenant?" he inquired.

"Bill Adama," Bulldog said the name as if it was an epithet.

Zarek raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"

The Sagittarion could see the conflict as well as the rage in the man's eyes. "Got a score to settle with him, not sure if I should though."

Zarek used his politician's smile when he spoke. "Sometimes revenge is justified if the individual needs to be kept from repeating mistakes." With that Zarek walked away, leaving Bulldog with his thoughts.

Adama and Roslin were in his quarters going over reports when the phone rang. He listened and said a few words before hanging up and walking toward the door. Roslin jumped up and followed him with concern. "Bill, where are you going?"

"Bulldog wants to talk to me, you stay here," was all he said. Something in his tone strongly advised her not to follow him and she decided to take heed.

"Be careful," she told him just before he was out of earshot.

Adama wandered right into an attack from the former POW, being hit with a pipe and pushed up against an overturned table. /"I kept thinking, 'just hang in their Bulldog, Bill Adama's coming,"/ Bulldog conveyed, his rage showing.

/Then he admitted that the Cylons left the door open to his cell. Fortunately before he could inflict too much damage, Tigh came into the room and took over. /"You alright, Bill?"/ he asked his friend./

/"Yeah, I'm okay" he groaned as he tried to move./ "Just don't say 'I told you so.'"

Tigh attempted to talk sense into Bulldog. /"The Cylons let you go, the question is why."/ After further discussion about the problem of being a survivor, Tigh mentioned that/"One day you just decide to get up and walk on your own,"/ before having Bulldog taken into custody and held in the brig for a while.

Adama was escorted to Life Station and Tigh decided that the president should be informed. "What happened, Colonel? What the heck did he get himself into this time?" she demanded over the phone.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with him, Madame President," he told her.

Roslin was at Life Station within fifteen minutes of having ended her discussion with Tigh. "Sorry Madame President, Doc said no visitors," the attendant remarked.

Roslin sighed in exasperation, but then remembered her trump card. "Tell the doctor that the admiral's wife is here."

The attendant disappeared and then reappeared, issuing her through the curtains. Dr. Cottle greeted her. "I understand you're not here as the president this time," he commented.

She stared at her hands for a moment and then faced him with her usual confidence. "I'm here for personal reasons. Is he conscious?" she asked in a calm tone.

The doctor nodded. "Yep, just had to patch him up, but figured that he'd want to be left alone by most people. That man's got more lives than a Cylon. He's lucky that he's not worse off."

As soon as she saw Adama, bruised and bandaged, she stood by the bed and took his hand. With great effort, he painfully sat up and looked over at her. "Hi," he croaked.

She carefully sat down next to him on the bed. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been interrogated by a man that really wanted to kill me," he answered.

Shaking her head, she sighed. "Bill, you've got to take better care of yourself. That was a heck of a chance you took! _Galactica_ needs you, your crew needs you, your son needs you. This is dangerous business and you can't keep doing this to yourself without expecting to get hurt," she argued. _And I need you_, she mentally added.

He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. "Laura, I don't go looking for trouble. I didn't go looking for him; he found me."

Roslin sighed heavily and crossed her arms and glared at him over the top of her glasses. "Does it do something for your male ego to have the crap kicked out of you every once in a while?"

"Now Laura, that's not fair," Adama protested.

"No Bill, what's not fair is that you left me out of the loop and you nearly walked into your execution," she pointed out.

"Don't you think that's a bit dramatic? Saul showed up at the right time and everything's fine."

"Not quite; I think that Zarek may have had something to do with him, even though the Cylons were the ones that let him go," she surmised. "The fact that he was so violently bent on revenge worries me."

"If you're here to lecture me about the danger Zarek can cause you if I'm gone-" he began to retaliate, but she interrupted him.

"This isn't about Zarek. I…," she paused and changed directions. "You are someone I confer with, and someone who keeps me in check. If anything happens to you…" she trailed off.

"Laura, I-" Adama stopped as Dr. Cottle reentered the room.

Roslin stood. "Bill, just make damn sure that you do a better job watching your back. We'll talk later," she told him before leaving the room, heels clicking on the metal floor.

"I think she means it," Cottle said with a smirk as he checked the admiral's status.

Though it hurt, Adama chuckled. "Oh I'm sure she does. I probably won't here the end of it for days after I go back to my quarters."

Cottle eyed him curiously. "Doesn't she live there too?"

The admiral sighed. "I've been meaning to mention that. What I'm about to tell you doesn't go any further than you, got it?"

"Sure," the doctor answered.

"Lee doesn't even knows this. The marriage is in name only, but I can't discuss why," he relayed.

The doctor walked over to a table to arrange a few painkillers and then walked back to his patient. "Hmm, that's interesting," he paused and gave the admiral a shot in the arm. "You tell her that she'd better not have you sleeping on the couch when you get back. It won't do your injuries any good," Cottle instructed.

Adama stood slowly. "That part won't be a problem."

The other man raised an eyebrow and studied the admiral. "That so? I wouldn't have pegged you as the type to let the lady sleep on the couch."

"I'm not," Adama answered promptly.

Cottle smirked. "I see."

The admiral decided to change the subject. "How much longer am I here for?"

"I think I can send you home now, but I can't in good conscience send you back to work for the next two days," the doctor replied. Adama nodded and headed back to his quarters, planning to meet Roslin on _Colonial One_ later.

When he arrived, she held up a paper and looked at him over the top of her glasses as if she was scolding a student. /"What is this?/ Bill, I'm not about to let you resign over this," she told him.

"I caused-"

She cut him off. /"Sit down Bill, I think you're getting naïve."/

He took the chair in front of her desk slowly and reluctantly, just wishing that he could disappear quietly. Looking into her eyes, he knew how impossible that would be. She continued. /"Did you ever think that the government set you up to provoke a war?"/

"I frakked up the mission!" he declared.

_If I can't do this my way, I'll have to try his way_, she resolved before replying. "Bill, when you frak up, you really frak up, but so do I, and so does everyone. Welcome to the human race. We frak up sometimes, and those of us who don't do it often tend to frak up big when we do. You made a mistake just like the rest of us."

"You didn't hand the human race to the Cylons on a platter!" he argued.

Knowing that this sort of discussion could turn dangerous very quickly, she reached out and found his hand, as she had in Life Station. /"It wasn't any one thing; we did a thousand things good and bad for forty years,"/ she relayed calmly. Then she held the resignation up with her idea of giving him a medal, telling him that neither means much.

"I don't deserve to be in charge of this fleet anymore," he persisted.

Normally she would never have resulted to such extremes, but she was at a loss at how to get through to him and slapped him. He stared at her, perplexed as she spoke. "Shut up, stop blaming yourself for something too big to have been caused by you/and let me pin a frakin' medal on your chest,"/ she left little room for argument.

He was still stubborn. /"I can't do that."/

She sat back down and spoke calmly again. /"It's not for you, it's for them, stand up and honor your fleet, that'll be your penance, even if it kills you."/ she explained. Finally he agreed.

The two had just finished dinner when a knock was heard. "Do people ever leave you alone?" Roslin asked with a smirk.

"Not very often," he replied gruffly, groaning as he stood.

Surprise registered in his face when he opened the door to Colonel Tigh. Adama moved so that he could come in, but he paused at the threshold, seeing Roslin there. She realized it and grabbed a few folders. _He probably wants to talk to Bill alone, just like everybody else_, she thought, slightly perturbed. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I've got some paperwork to do," she remarked before leaving.

"I didn't mean to put her out, she is your wife now," Tigh mentioned.

Adama cleared his throat. "I've got something to tell you about that, but it looks as though you've got something too."

"Well I…" Tigh trailed off momentarily.

/"You wanna tell me what happened to Ellen?"/ Adama continued, inviting Tigh into his quarters for the second time.

/"I could use a drink"/ he admitted as he passed through the doorway.

/"Me too"/ the admiral added.

When Roslin returned, Tigh had left and the admiral had cleaned up dinner's dishes. He looked over at her from the book he was reading and smiled. "You know, I can step out too. So far both Lee and Saul have felt bad about kicking you out. Next time why don't you stay anyway?"

She smiled back at him. "These aren't my quarters."

He shook his head. "I've been thinking about that. Technically, for as long as you're here, these aren't just my quarters but 'our' quarters. You're the one who's had to move things around to accommodate this plan of ours."

After she set her paperwork down on his desk, he put his book aside and lead her over to sit next to him on the couch. "I owe you an apology. I haven't been very fair to you the last couple of days," he began.

"You've been under a lot of stress," she reminded him.

He took her hands in his. "That's still no excuse for not telling you the truth, and letting you leave when I have company. You've been remarkably patient and I'm wondering if this is all about to come back on me," he added wryly.

She giggled. "Let's just say that you owe me a few favors." When he dropped her hands and looked away quietly, her worry returned. "Bill," she did not get much of a response, so she leaned toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder so that he would look her in the eyes. "Are you worried that I might think less of you now after learning what I have?" she probed.

"Maybe," he muttered.

Smiling bravely at him, she shook her head. "Bill, if anything, what you've done has given me faith that there is hope for humanity yet, that even if we frak up, life will go on and we'll all be wiser for it. I will never think less of you," she told him with sincerity. As they looked into each other's eyes, both saw the deep level of trust and understanding.

Then both left the couch and decided to turn in for the evening. "We may yet survive this," he told her quietly before they drifted off to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Roslin woke and sat up, looking around the room. _Something's wrong, but what? It's so quiet_. Then she realized that she did not hear Adama snoring. _Frak, he's not breathing_, she worried, moving closer to him. She let out a sigh of relief when she felt the rise and fall of his chest. _Doc must have had to do something with his nose_, she surmised, curling up against him. She drifted back to sleep, leaving one hand on his chest so that she could feel him breathing. Unconsciously he draped his right arm around her shoulders.

In the morning he wondered why dark auburn grass was on his face. When he tried to move, he noticed the reason. She had curled up with him and he could only stare in bafflement. _What is she trying to do this time? Maybe I should leave without waking her in case she moved in her sleep and doesn't realize how close we are_. As he moved, the unavoidable happened and she woke.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she met his confused expression and sat up, blushing furiously. "I couldn't here you snoring and, well, I was worried that you weren't breathing," she admitted, not facing him.

He grinned. "I didn't mind, and that makes the whole frakking mess I got myself into not so bad. Doc says that it'll take a few days for my nose to heal. Then he guarantees that I should be back to my usual noisy self."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Oh for Kobol's sake," she scolded mockingly, "Today is a new day and I'm going to see to it that you make it a new day, now get up," she ordered.

"Yes, Madame President, right away, Madame President," he goaded.

She rolled her eyes. "Bill Adama, don't you patronize me, or you can make your own coffee again," she added with a sly smirk.

"Anything but that," he stated as he headed for the shower, chuckling.

When he met Tigh at CIC later that morning, the colonel eyed him suspiciously. Very rarely had he seen the 'Old Man' in anything but his calm, stony mood. This morning the admiral actually seemed pleased, which surprised the colonel even more after the last couple of days. He stepped closer to his commanding officer when he entered the deck.

"Sir, are you feeling alright?" Tigh inquired. "Didn't Doc tell you to take it easy or something?"

Adama smiled wryly. "You think I've got time to follow that one? I'll be here for preliminary scans and reports."

Tigh nodded, but kept talking. "I have to ask you Bill, why are you in such a damned good mood?"

The admiral had a faraway look in his eyes as he answered, "Good coffee."

(It has recently been pointed out to me that the game I referred to as 'pyramids' in the previous chapter is actually 'triad.' My thanks to Carma and artlet33 for reviewing :D).


	4. In sickness and in health

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"The only thing it's hard to be prepared for is getting sick; if you have to be sick, do it on your own time." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 4: In sickness and in health

Despite their earlier ideas for her time on _Colonial One_, Roslin had spent only one full day a week there, working on both ships during most days. Her nights on _Colonial One_ were often restless and she figured out why as she stared out at the stars from her window one evening: it was too quite there. She and Adama even phoned each other before going to bed. If she chatted too long, he would pretend to fall asleep on the other end of the line, she would laugh, and they would tell each other goodnight.

They had been married for roughly a month as she exited the bedroom wearing a black jacket over a cream blouse and a black skirt. He noticed a slit in her skirt and cleared his throat. She faced him with a raised eyebrow as he spoke. "I know this marriage is only in name, but that skirt's not appropriate."

She stared at him incredulously. "And why is that?" she challenged.

"There's a slit in that skirt that goes half way up your thigh. I know it's not my place to tell you what to wear, but there are certain things you don't wear when you're married," he tried to explain.

Racing into the bathroom, she looked in the mirror to examine her skirt. "Oh my, I didn't even see this. It's actually a rip. I can't believe that I didn't catch this earlier, thank you. And I completely agree with you about the appropriateness of a wardrobe."

Smiling, he put on his glasses and finished his coffee. "Are you saying that I was actually right about something?" he goaded.

She sighed and smiled. "It does look that way."

At the meeting, when Roslin was briefed about the colonies, she realized how distant she had allowed herself to become. As others were dismissed, she told Lee and Adama to stay behind. "I think it's time that I visited with the colonists for a few days. I miss the school and the students too,"

"Are you sure about this?" Adama asked.

She gave a confident nod. "This is something that I need to do."

Later in his quarters, he watched her pack. _Why do I see this as a bad idea?_ "Are you sure that this won't look bad to the press, you heading off for a while like this?" he questioned.

Looking up to face him, she smiled reassuringly. "It will look good for my presidency if I'm mingling with the colonists."

He nodded and walked over to her. "You be careful, alright?"

"Don't worry, everything will be fine," she told him, stepping closer to him. He seemed to understand and pulled her into a hug.

"When are you coming back?" he asked as they parted.

"I should be back in three days. Lee plans to help me a bit too," she explained.

He walked her down to where Lee met them and then headed to CIC to check the reports. Lee and Roslin proceeded to talk with various colonists and it was decided that she would stay at a tent with a mother and her daughter. It was after Lee had left to take care of a few duties that the president noticed people looking pale and peeked. She overheard someone coughing and then she noticed a medical aide.

She walked over to the aide. "Excuse me, what is going on here?"

"Madame President, several of the colonists have the flu, so we are trying to treat them as best we can," he replied.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything that I can do to help?" she asked, moving out of the way as more sick people staggered by.

The aide looked around handed her a care kit of sorts, pointing to a tent a few feet away. "There are children over there that need help," he told her. She nodded and made her way over to the tent.

The smell was unmistakably unpleasant, but she had volunteered to help. As she cleaned up children, her mind drifted to the admiral. At CIC, Tigh noticed that he looked distracted, only half-listening to reports. Nothing seemed to hold his interest long enough because he worried about her.

As he lay in bed that evening, he realized how quiet his was without her. As she curled up on the cot after a long day of playing nurse, she worried about the nightmares. Yet sleep did not come to her. After tossing and turning on her cot for a while, she sat up with a defeated sigh. Though she could hear other people in the camp, the sound that would actually help her sleep was missing: his snoring. _I can't believe that his snoring is causing me this much trouble. I'm sure he'll find this amusing when I see him again_, she thought wryly before lying back down again.

On the second morning of Roslin's stay with the colonists, Lee decided to visit Adama. After knocking, Lee entered his father's quarters that morning to find a grumpy admiral sitting in a chair, glaring at his coffee. "Something wrong, Dad?" the younger man asked.

"She makes better coffee than I do," he stated gruffly without facing Lee.

The captain walked over to the older man and sat down. "You got used to having her around, didn't you?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the older man sighed. "Yes. She's a headstrong, manipulative, and confusing, but yes," he admitted.

"I wouldn't be surprised; you did marry her," Lee commented.

Adama cleared his throat. "It's time I told you the truth about that one."

"What do you mean?" the younger man inquired.

"The Quorum and Zarek trapped both of us into it. It's a marriage in name only so she's protected from him, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep that to yourself," he paused and set his half empty cup on the counter. "And now she has to go off, leaving me no way of contacting her where she's at," he grumbled.

"Dad, she'll be fine. The colonists are protective of her too. As for Zarek…" Lee trailed off.

"I want you to keep an eye on him," Adama requested.

His son nodded and stood to leave. "I'm heading down to check on her. Is there anything you want me to pass on to her?"

The older man thought for a moment. "Tell her that if she pulls this again, she'd better have access to a phone at least."

Roslin had spent the last two days visiting with the colonists, and helping some who were ill. The flu that had been circulating through the camp she was at had hit some children harder than others and she was looking after a few. One advantage she had discovered to assisting as opposed to directing was that she was privy to a great deal more gossip. _Zarek things he's making points helping the colonists with this flu business by organizing more trips to collect supplies from Life Station. One thing I will give that man is organization_, she pondered.

After another long day, she placed her hand on the cool glass of the window and looked out at the stars, thinking of the admiral. "Madame President?" Lee called, noticing that she seemed distracted as she glanced at the stars from the window. She did not seem to hear him. "Laura?" he tried again, purposely letting his voice sound gravely.

That time he got a response. "Yes, Bill?" she replied. When she turned to face Lee, she sighed heavily. "It would seem that I've let my mind wander again."

"You miss him?" the military adviser probed.

She fiddled with her hands. "Yes. It's only been two days, but I miss him. Self-righteous, overbearing, difficult man that he his, I miss him," she admitted.

Lee smiled at her. "I don't know if it means anything to you, but he said that you make better coffee than he does," he relayed.

She smiled in return, looking past him. "It means that we've gotten used to each other. Was there anything else?"

"He also wanted me to tell you that if you do this again, you'd better be near a phone," Lee relayed.

She smirked and nodded. "He does have a good point with that one."

Her military adviser stepped closer to her and whispered, "I know about the marriage too."

Sighing heavily, she faced him. "At least you finally know. We didn't have time to tell you sooner, and it's all because of Zarek. He's been here trying to organize aide for the sick, but anyone with experience in politics can tell that he's doing it for popularity," she added flatly.

"Dad told me to keep an eye on him," Lee mentioned.

"Good. Zarek is up to something and I've got a bad feeling about whatever that something is," she commented.

After three days, she knocked on the door of the admiral's quarters that evening. He opened the door, thinking it would be Tigh or Lee. At first, surprise sat on his face. Then it was replaced by a calm, genuine smile. "You didn't have to knock, you know."

She smiled back. "I felt like I should."

He let her in and she dropped her bag on the floor as they stood next to each other. The distance only lasted for a short moment. "Next time I'm coming with you," Adama told her as they held each other in a tight hug.

"I was about to insist on that," she remarked before they let go.

"When I don't talk to you, my day is far too quiet," he conveyed.

She giggled as her grin reached her eyes. "I got no sleep without you snoring," she admitted.

He chuckled and picked up her bag for her. "In that case, I'll be making up for lost time and snoring at meetings too."

She laughed heartily with him. "You do that and you'll find yourself out in the hallway."

"I'd like to see you try," he teased.

After unpacking her bag, she headed toward the shower, which felt extremely refreshing. When she entered the living room, she found him reading. "Find something interesting?" she asked as she sat down next to him.

He put the book down and smiled at her. "I was looking for another quote from Colonel Acton. He says, 'There are too many ways to go separate directions and not enough ways to go the same direction because people can't agree on which direction they should take and which direction they want to take.'"

She glanced away and pondered what he had said for a moment before facing him with a smirk. "This colonel of yours definitely knows what he's talking about. Isn't this the very issue you and I have been dealing with since we've met?"

"My thoughts exactly. In name or not, the fact is that I missed you," he admitted.

Grinning as she faced him, she gently squeezed his hand. "I missed you too."

He skimmed the book for a minute. When he looked back at her, they were both still smiling. "It's late and we should go to bed," he mentioned. She nodded and he let her have the bedroom first to change.

Later they were under the covers at their separate ends and both began to inch toward the other. Lying closer, he took a calculated risk and wrapped his left arm around her waist. She rested her hands on top of his arm, as if holding him in place. "Bill, what are we doing?" she asked, slightly unsure of things.

He spoke in his usual low rumble. "By staying as we are, I know that you're here and not somewhere else, and you know that I'm still breathing."

She chuckled lightly. "You aren't planning on letting that one go, are you?"

"Not a chance. For someone who was so against sharing the bed, you sure haven't complained much," he said as he laughed with her. Nothing else needed to be said when the laughter ceased and the two drifted off to a relaxing sleep.

It had been two days since she had come back when Adama found her in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach. "Laura, are you alright?" he asked, his

voice edged with concern.

She stood tried to collect herself by holding onto the sink. "I think I've caught the flu from the colonists. I might be able to make a couple of meetings if I don't eat anything for a while."

Simply from the look he was giving her in the mirror, Roslin could tell that she would not be going anywhere for the rest of the day. "Laura, you're sick and you're going to stay home and take care of yourself if it kills me."

Taking a deep breath, she faced him. "I appreciate the sentiment, Bill, but we both know that I don't have time for sick days right now."

He shook his head adamantly. "Your options are the bed or the couch. I'll call Doc and see if he can make a house call," his tone was even, but not to be argued with. She wanted to protest, but succumbed to fatigue and crashed on the couch in a ball for a while.

Cottle arrived as soon as Adama had called him on a secured line. He studied the woman before him as she laid on the couch, curled up on one end, an oversized dark brown bathrobe over her pajamas. "Madame President, forgive my asking this, but are you sure that it's the flu and not something a little more personal?"

"What else would it be?" Adama interjected.

Roslin quickly figured out what the doctor was implying and looked over at Adama. "Bill, you did tell him that it's in name only, right?" the admiral nodded.

Cottle cleared his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry, I just assumed that-"

She could not let him finish. "Doc, it's definitely the flu. It would be impossible for it to be anything else," she said frankly.

He examined her and then stood to leave. "She's got a temperature and the same symptoms as the rest of the colonists, therefore I think it'll only last about three days," he said as he left.

The admiral looked at the president, curled up on the couch and looking like she had spent the night on the floor of one of the engine rooms. He put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Laura, is there anything I can do for you?"

She groaned. "I'm going to use one of those favors that you owe me. Could you figure out something to tell the press until I feel better so that they don't think the same thing that Doc did?"

"Sure. We can buy you at least one day if they think you have a bad headache," he began.

"That still leaves two days," she reminded.

His hand had yet to leave her shoulder. "What if I told them that you'd overloaded your schedule and needed a couple of days to revise it to fit the meetings in?"

She smiled weakly. "I like that idea, but you need to talk with Tory first."

Adama spoke with the aide and then headed off to CIC. "Admiral on deck," Tigh called out.

"As you were," Adama responded as he neared his usual place in the room within the green and blue glows of the equipment.

"Anything I should know about, Saul?" he inquired.

Tigh brought up a status report and handed a file to him. "Engineering wants to see you later. Apparently the pipes need repair and we're coming up short still."

Adama accepted the file with one short nod. "Thanks, Saul, I'll see to it later."

Just then and without warning, all of CIC was bathed in darkness. Adama felt around for the compartment in the table that held his flashlight. With luck he found it quickly and turned it on. "What the hell was that?" Adama asked.

"A blackout, sir," someone said.

"I want a more intelligent answer than that," the admiral growled. Using the flashlight, he stalked over to the fuse box and bright the lights back on. Soon the other equipment came back on its own. "I want to know what caused that and if we have any damage because of it."

The officers worked for a few minutes to diagnose what had happened. One finally looked up at the admiral. "Sir, someone shut the power off from another part of the ship, but we can't identify where yet. It looks like there aren't any damages though."

Adama pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "We're going to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible," he stated. Then he looked over at Tigh. "Saul, it's all yours. I need to check on those engineering reports," he mentioned as he left CIC.

In engineering he experienced the problem first-hand when a pipe he was walking by popped out with a hiss of steam. Chief Tyrol greeted him. "Sir, what can we do for you?"

"I came down to see the pipes. Those need repairing and quickly. I want a list of what metals you and the other engineers think would be the most efficient for repairs on my desk by the end of the day," the admiral remarked.

"Yes sir," Tyrol responded.

Adama then went to walk around the engineering area and look at other pipes himself. _I can't believe that this many pipes have damage like this_, he thought to himself. Then the reason occurred to him as he looked closer. _Somebody planned this_, he realized uncomfortably. When he turned to head back to CIC, he did not hear the assailant. The admiral abruptly felt a searing, painful whack in the back of his head and the world around him went black for the second time that day.

When he came to, Tyrol was standing over him. "Are you alright, sir?" the engineer inquired.

Adama got to his feet with a groan and gingerly rubbed the back of his head. "How long was I out?" he questioned.

Tyrol thought for a moment. "Only for about half an hour. Sir, what happened?"

"Something or someone hit me in the back of the head. Did you happen to see anyone else around here?" Adama asked. The other man shook his head. "In that case, I'd like it if you'd keep a close eye on this sector, chief." Tyrol nodded and Adama left, deciding to head toward Life Station. _Laura's going to love this one_, he thought sarcastically while he was on his way.

Roslin had spent the day curled up on the couch resting. She sat up when Adama came back that afternoon. She watched him grumble unintelligibly and head straight to his desk with a file. "Rough day?" she asked.

As if suddenly remembering that she was there, he turned to face her, subconsciously rubbing the back of his head. "I've had better. Shouldn't you go back to lying down?"

Crossing her arms, she sighed. "I'll lie down when you tell me what happened and why you look like you took a nap on the floor."

He groaned. "Is it that obvious?"

"You look stiff and your hair's a mess. It does look curious," she pointed out.

Handing her the file, he sat in a chair. "Aside from an unexplained blackout in CIC, we've got someone sabotaging pipes, and while I was down in engineering inspecting the pipes somebody hit me in the back of the head. Tyrol found me half an hour later," he explained.

"What did Cottle say about your head?" she probed.

"Nothing I have the patience to follow," he replied before the phone rang. He reached out to pick it up. "Hello? No Tory, she can't come to the phone right now; she's sick. Zarek? What did he want? You can tell that windbag-"

"Bill, what's going on?" Roslin inquired.

The admiral faced her. "Zarek wants to meet with you in an hour to discuss how to get more supplies."

She got to her feet. "Tell Tory that I'll meet with him then."

"You most certainly will not," he replied adamantly. "You're sick and you're staying down until you feel better."

"And just who are you to think that you can just order me around?" she demanded with her hands on her hips.

He let out an exasperated sigh, but was not about to back down. "Right now I'm your husband and the last thing you need is to get into a debate with a man who's looking for a way to get rid of you," he pointed out.

"That's in name only and I've worked sick before," she countered.

He still had Tory on the phone, but was not paying attention to her. "When that happened, two things were different. First of all, you weren't married, and second, it wasn't something that could go away in a few days if you'd actually rest."

Roslin closed her eyes for a moment and realized that they were burning. _Frak, I still have a fever_. Slowly she sat back down and faced him. "Maybe you're right and I do need to rest," she acquiesced.

He nodded and turned back to the phone. "Tory, tell Zarek that I'll meet him in my office in half an hour," he finished.

Zarek arrived at the office five minutes after Adama did. "Admiral," he greeted.

"Mr. Zarek," both men were equally calm and collected. "Have a seat," the admiral offered.

Zarek sat and decided to cut pleasantries. "Why can't I meet with the president?" the Sagittarian questioned.

"She's indisposed, so you'll have to deal with me today," Adama mentioned.

"I came here to discuss the colonies, not the military," Zarek said snidely as his irritation mounted.

"Fine, then I'll talk first," Adama began, masking his own irritation under the stony resolve. "We, the president and I, have a proposition for you. We need an organized group to locate places of metal deposits so we can get more metal for repairs. Would you like to head the team?"

The other man eyed the admiral suspiciously. "You and I haven't gotten along and it sounds as though you're doing me a favor with this idea. Is there something I should know?"

His opposition smirked. "The president thought you'd be the right person for the job," he explained.

Zarek placed his and on his chin and seemed to be considering the offer for the moment. "Since it would help with my own desire to help the colonists, I'll do it."

"Thank you," the admiral stated, hoping that Zarek would simply leave.

Zarek did not leave though. He looked Adama square in the eyes and said, "Don't think you're fooling anyone. The marriage is in name only. You barely acknowledge each other in public. The fact that you're here doing her job means that either she's ill, or that you've removed her somehow. The odds are against you that you wouldn't survive being married to each other for long."

The admiral calmly glared at him. "I don't see how that's any of your frakking business," he retaliated in a quiet, but deadly tone.

Zarek gave his sinister smirk. "I was only stating the facts."

"Leave Mr. Zarek, before you and I say or do something that we might later regret," Adama advised. The other man stood and wordlessly left the office.

Later the admiral returned to his quarters to find the president dozing on the couch. Though he tried to be quiet, his movements as he looked for a book woke her. "Bill, what happened with Zarek?" she questioned sleepily.

"You should go back to sleep and I'll tell you in the morning," Adama advised.

She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "I feel so useless being sick. Please tell me, how did things go with him?"

_If I leave out what I'd prefer to, she'll find out eventually so I might as well just tell her all of it_, he resigned to himself. "He'll head up the group. I want Lee on it as soon as possible because Zarek is dangerous. Laura, he realized that our marriage is only in name and confronted me about it."

"What did you say to him?" she inquired.

Adama sat down next to her. "I basically told him that it wasn't his frakking business."

In spite of how awful she felt, his answer made her laugh. "I wish I could have been there to hear that one. And I don't think you should be sitting this close to me," she reminded him.

He gave her a half-smile. "I don't really need to worry that much about getting sick. I don't know where you got your shots, but mine were meant to last four or five years," he relayed.

"I guess I should have asked for a refund," she said with a grin. "You should grow your mustache back. It looked cute," she commented, lying back down on the couch.

He looked back at her and chuckled. "I'm in charge of the military; I can't afford to look cute."

Despite how ill she felt, she chuckled too. "It did look good on you though."

Somehow she had ended up lying with her head on his lap. He patted her shoulder, knowing that she was about to drift back to sleep and picked up a file to read, intending to stay where he was. "I think you're delirious," he told her.

"You're worse for staying here like this when you could get all of CIC sick," she remarked. "It would be funny to see Zarek with the flu though, serves him right," she mumbled.

He smiled at the image of the Sagittarian representative being too ill to cause anyone trouble. "It'll come back on him sooner or later. Want me to read the updates on the colony's status to you?"

"Sure," she mumbled as sleep overtook her.

(My thanks to Mariel3, jacky, and Vicky Ryan for reviewing :D)


	5. To love and honour

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"Know your enemies well, and don't mistake friends for enemies; they could save your life someday." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 5: To love and honour

Tigh, Kara, Anders, Lee, and Dee all sat down around the table, waiting for the admiral so they could begin. A moment later he walked in, but they were surprised to see him followed by Roslin, who wore a green button-up shirt and jeans, as she had worn on Kobol. Her flu had ended after three days and she was glad to be doing anything other than living on the couch. Adama pulled a chair out for her and then took his seat next to her right. "Evening Bill, Madame President. Can we help you with something?" Tigh began.

She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head. "No, I'm just here to play, and it's 'Laura' tonight."

"Do you know how to play?" Kara probed.

Roslin and Adama faced each other and exchanged wry smiles. "You could say that," she answered simply.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Dee asked with a smile.

The card game started and the others quickly realized that the president was about to 'wipe the floor with them.' Kara dealt the older woman an admiring smirk. "I should have said, 'can you teach me?' instead of asking you if you knew how to play."

Roslin laughed. "Think of it as long-standing beginner's luck," she remarked.

"You just like to make me look bad for teaching you how to play," Adama teased. Tigh noticed a five o'clock shadow on his upper lip.

After a while everyone else had folded and sat back to watch as only the admiral and the president were left. "Well, it looks like it all boils down to you and me again," Roslin stated with confidence as she leaned on her elbow toward him, as if she was certain of a victory.

"Doesn't it always?" he retaliated. "You know you can't win every game."

"You are one stubborn man, Bill Adama. Just concede defeat and we can end this with some grace," she stated, grinning in a feline manner.

"Sorry Laura, but I intend to beat you this time," he mentioned.

Still leaning on her elbow, she rested her chin on her fist. "You know I love a challenge," she added. Then she blushed slightly realizing the double meaning of what she had just said.

The others in the room watched the exchange with quiet amusement. Kara leaned over to Tigh and whispered, "I should've brought snacks. This is the best entertainment I've had all day."

The colonel nodded in response. Adama set is cards down face-up and grinned at Roslin fiendishly. "My game," was all he said.

She set her cards down and faced him, sighing. "You were right, this time. But I want a rematch."

"Later," he stated as he glanced at his watch.

Standing as well, she faced him so that they were standing almost nose to nose. "It won't take that long," she attempted to persuade him.

The others looked at each other wide-eyed and confused about what she meant. Adama looked up and realized that there were still other people in the room. Roslin followed his gaze and flushed a shade of red at having everyone mix up the meaning of what she had said. He saw her embarrassed expression and chuckled.

"I think we'd better go and leave them with their dignity in tact," he told her.

She nodded and faced the others. "Thank you for humoring me, and have a good evening," she conveyed.

"Night you two; just don't hurt each other," Lee remarked with a smirk. Adama shook his head and offered his arm to Roslin, who was desperately trying not to giggle.

As they left, the two heard Kara just before they were out of earshot. "Just think what they would've done if they'd been drinking."

That last comment sent the president into a fit of giggles. They were contagious and the admiral ended up laughing with her all the way back to their quarters. Breathing hard from laughing so much, she flopped down on one of the ends of the couch. "I'm going to have to be more careful about what I say at the card games," she commented.

He sat down next to her and grinned wryly. "It wasn't what you said, it was how you said it and what they thought you meant," he explained.

"I really did want a rematch though," she said, reaching for the deck of cards on the table.

He leaned over, reaching out, and caught her elbow. Then he slid his hand along her forearm until he grasped her hand. "Oh no, that's what started the mess we just left."

She turned to face him and their noses touched. _If only it was this easy_, he thought. A warm feeling passed through her and she had trouble looking him in the eyes. "I am not in charge of where other people's minds go," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Realizing how close they were, he swallowed hard and backed away. "I'm going to read for a while," he mentioned.

The president took a deep breath. "I have some files to go over." That evening both went to bed quietly, each mulling over their own thoughts.

It had been a few days since the card game when Adama entered CIC. Tigh handed him the reports and stared at him for a minute. "So what's the mustache doing back?" he questioned.

Adama looked out at the stars. "She likes it," he answered simply.

Tigh shook his head and chuckled quietly. "'In name' my ass," he muttered.

Later that day, the admiral sat at his desk, grudgingly looking over maintenance reports again. The need for new metal was becoming dire and the committee allocated for the job seemed to be taking its time along with it's leader, Zarek. When he heard a knock, he told the other party to enter. He looked up to see Lieutenant Karl 'Helo' Agathon and stood.

"Sir," the other man stated.

"Lieutenant," Adama acknowledged. "What can I do for you?"

The younger man moved his hand over his buzzed hair. "It's sort of a personal matter."

"Then have a seat and let's talk," the admiral responded.

He waited patiently as the man in front of him figured out what he wanted to say. "Sir, the human race has been told that we should be having children. I know my wife is a Cylon, and I know that our children would be hybrids, but we want to have children."

Adama ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Helo, we've been over this. It's too dangerous," he stated.

Helo stood as if to leave, but then said "Permission to speak freely, sir."

_I know where this is going, and neither one of us is going to gain any ground from it_. "Permission granted."

"It's not fair we can't have a family without permission from you or the president because Sharon's a Cylon. Hasn't she proved herself to you yet? She's a person, sir," Helo argued.

"Lieutenant, you know these things are complicated. It's just not a good idea right now," the admiral tried to persuade him.

"Sir, it's not about the timing; it's about wanting the right to have my own family," Helo retaliated.

Adama could see that the conversation could easily get out of hand and decided to end it. "Lieutenant, I think we've talked enough," he said calmly.

"I'm tired of asking permission-"

He cut the younger man off. "You're dismissed, Helo," he said calmly, but firmly. Helo sighed, gave a sharp nod, and quickly left the office.

Adama decided to discuss the issue with Roslin after dinner. He was still contemplating his earlier meeting when she joined him on the couch. "You've been awfully quiet this evening. Is there anything I should know?" she probed.

He cleared his throat and faced her. "Did you finish that book I loaned you?"

"Yes. Bill, what's this all about?" she asked, studying him.

The only thing readable was his eyes. _He's weighing something_, she decided. "Lieutenant Agathon came to see me this afternoon. He wants to start a family and he's mad at us for not letting him."

She rubbed her eyes and sat back against the couch. "And you want to know what I think of his request," she assessed. He nodded and she paused, evaluating the issue. "We don't know if the Cylons have the ability to control hybrids. We don't know for certain what happened to their first child after Maya was killed, yet he does have a point. I think the question is this: who is it that we're afraid of? Are we worried that Sharon will turn on us again? Or are we worried that the Cylons will somehow contact her and use her against us?"

"I told him it wasn't the right time. But what right do we have to make that call? Yes we're considering the safety of the fleet, but we're not being fair to a woman who's proved herself countless times since she showed up," Adama expressed.

Roslin sighed and headed over to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Do you trust her?" she questioned.

He walked back and forth between the kitchen and his living room. "Yes, and that's what makes everything even more complicated."

"Then I suggest we sit on the question for a while," she told him. He sat down at his desk and picked up a file, handing it to her. "Is this the next crisis?"

"I wish I could say that was an understatement," he grumbled. "We've got to find some metal deposits, soon. Zarek and Lee don't seem to be having much luck, but Zarek's recruited a few geologists and they've been looking at asteroids."

"It sounds like they'll find something eventually," she commented.

He sighed and flipped through the file. "I hope 'eventually' will be soon enough. And there's still sabotage. Why the heck anyone would sabotage us, I really don't know, but it's worse because we're using metal to fix things that we shouldn't have to," he grumbled.

She studied her hands and then turned back to him, noticing how tense he was. Standing behind him, she began to gently massage his shoulders. He seemed to protest, but then leaned into what she was doing and she could feel him relax. He turned and smiled at her. "Thanks, I needed that," he began. Then he noticed the wheels turning behind her brilliant green eyes. "You've got a plan, don't you?"

Smirking, picked up the file again. "I don't know if I could call it a plan; it's more of an idea. Tory seems to have a knack for knowing things. I think she could help us with the sabotage issue if she can talk to the right people," Roslin suggested.

"I wouldn't want her to do anything dangerous. Just make sure she doesn't get hurt," he advised.

She nodded. "After what happened to Billy and Maya, I'm not taking unnecessary risks."

"Do you want to talk to her, or should we both?" he asked.

"I'll speak with her in the morning," Roslin decided.

She met Tory for breakfast on _Colonial One_ the following morning. "Madame President, I know that you would not meet with me like this, were it not important," the aide articulated as they ate omelets with potato rounds.

_As I thought, she's definitely the right person for this job_. "Tory, we have a situation that may require your assistance," the president began.

Tory set her fork down and folded her hands in front of her. "Though it's a bit unexpected, just tell me when your baby is due and I will try to make everything seem as inconspicuous as possible, and I'll cut your schedule during your third trimester," the aide relayed.

Roslin stared at her wide-eyed. _I'm surprised she was able to say that with a straight face. Seriously, what is it with people lately? Do I look fat? I think I actually lost weight with the flu_, she mused as she tried desperately not to laugh and took a deep breath to cover it. "Tory, I am most assuredly not pregnant. Your help is needed to gain information."

Tory swallowed to mask her sudden embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Madame President, I never meant to offend-"

The older woman put her hand up dismissively. "That's alright; just don't do that again. Lately there has been a problem of sabotage, and with resources as limited as they are, it is imperative that we learn who's behind this and how to stop them," she explained. "We were hoping that you might have contacts."

The aide did not need to ask whom the president was referring to when she used 'we.' "Of course I will do what I can, Madame President. I think it will take me a few days but-" the president interrupted her.

"Take the time you need, just be careful and don't get caught," she warned. _I refuse to bury another aide_.

Tory nodded, not quite understanding her employer's worry. "I won't be caught," she mentioned plainly.

The admiral met with the president later on her ship for an update on the situations they had been mulling over. She greeted him with a refreshing smile as he took a seat in front of her desk. "You seem like your day went well," he commented.

She smirked. "It's been an amusing day, or at least it started out that way."

He raised an eyebrow, spotting something that she had left on her desk since her breakfast with Tory and leaned forward with his elbows on her desk. "Was that before or after you hijacked my salt shaker? I stopped our quarters for lunch and soon realized that I couldn't salt the tomatoes for my sandwich."

Her eyes spotted what he had seen earlier. She picked up the salt shaker and handed it to him. "I'm sorry about that; I wasn't thinking. I just took it with me for breakfast and then I forgot that it was on my desk."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "It's fine. I thought you hid it because you were starting to watch my sodium intake."

She smiled and shook her head, staring at his mustache for a second. "That's your business."

"How'd the meeting with Tory go?" he inquired.

"She said that she was willing, and she guaranteed me that she wouldn't be caught," the president paused, biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

He shook his head again and grinned wryly. "I can see that there's something you left out, so just say it and get it over with," he encouraged.

Roslin lost the battle and submitted to giggling while Adama chuckled and watched her as if she was a few cards short of a full deck. As soon as she was able to take a deep breath and stop laughing, she explained what had brought it on. "When I was starting to tell her about the situation, Tory thought that I was pregnant."

_Not that it would be that bad of an idea, but she'd make me sleep on the couch if I mentioned it_. "That's twice you realize. You're either wearing something that doesn't suit you, which I doubt considering I'd have said something to you a long time ago, or you ate a strange combination of things in front of people," he goaded her.

She thought for a moment. "I wonder if Tory didn't believe that I was actually sick when I had the flu. That might explain it," she decided. Then she changed the subject, her eyes still lingering on his mustache. "Have you heard anything new from Zarek?" she asked, leaning across the desk as well.

"So far all Zarek's team has been able to find are pieces smaller than- what are you doing?" he questioned. She had reached over to him and was fingering his mustache.

"I really do think it suits you," she remarked with a feline grin.

"I didn't grow it so you could fixate on it at meetings," he said gruffly, smirking. Then a thought occurred to him and she thought she could see a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "It would be as bad as me doing this while you were trying to talk," he added, running his fingers through her hair.

Having his hands touching her hair and incidentally her neck was causing all sorts of sensations that she had tried to quickly repress. _This 'in name only' think won't last long if he keeps doing that_. She stood up hastily for fear that if she remained sitting, she might try to act on said impulses. "I think I see your point. Your mustache is yours, and my hair is mine," she said, trying desperately to compose herself.

He grinned smugly. _I'll have to remember that one_. "Now that we've gotten past that, Zarek hasn't been able to find anything useful yet and frankly I don't think he understands what it will mean if we can't make repairs. Between stuff falling apart anyway and sabotage, we won't be able to jump if this keeps up," he reminded her.

"I'll see if I can send them a message explaining the urgency of the situation," she replied.

The meeting was over and they both stood. He took the salt shaker and faced her. "Are you coming home tonight?"

She glanced back at the pile on her desk and sighed. "I can't. I have too much to do," she responded.

He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "I'll call you later then," he said before pulling her into a secure hug. Both stayed longer than they had planned in the embrace, and both parted reluctantly. They spoke on the phone for an hour after he returned to their quarters.

Roslin was in her office the next morning when a strange odor seemed to infiltrate _Colonial One_. She decided to make a call to CIC. The admiral picked up the phone. "Adama," he gave his usual response.

"Bill, could you get a couple of biologists and maybe an engineer over to _Colonial One_? I think something is wrong with the air filtration system," Roslin explained.

"I'll get right on it, Madame President," the admiral relayed.

About fifteen minutes later, two biologists and an engineer rendezvoused with _Colonial One_. The biologists immediately knew what was wrong. "Madame President," one began, "somehow the air filtration system picked up some mold spores. That's why the place smells like an old rag."

"It must have picked up something from New Caprica," she hypothesized. "What can be done about it?"

"Well Ma'am, we need to analyze the cultures and then clean out the system. It'll take a few days though, so everyone who lives on this ship will have to be somewhere else in the mean time because it's bad to breathe mold spores," the other biologist conveyed.

Relocating was fortunately not too much trouble for anyone. Roslin stood in Adama's office the following day, holding her paperwork and looking for an unoccupied place to set it down. She finally spied an open chair and put her paperwork aside. Making her way to his desk, she glanced at the files scattered around. _He must really have a lot to do these days. I know he's usually more organized than this_, she thought to herself as she decided to organize his office for him. Things were in a more functional condition when she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called out. She stood as Sharon entered the room. The woman had gone to talk with the president and hid her surprise when she was told that the president had borrowed Adama's office near CIC temporarily. _I'll bet I know what this is about_. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am, Helo spoke to the admiral and didn't get much of an answer, so I'm going to ask you the same question: is it fair that we have to ask you two for permission to start a family?" Sharon's tone was irritated, but not rude.

Roslin sighed heavily. "I'm sorry but we don't know enough about-"

"What's that noise?" Sharon interjected.

The president listened closely and they both heard a slight beeping near the door. Roslin began to walk in the direction, but Sharon assessed the situation sooner. "Get down!" she shouted, forcing the president to the floor toward the other end of the office before the bomb exploded.

In CIC, everyone stared at Adama's office door. _I thought that would be the one place she'd be safe at. Oh Laura, please be alright_, Adama hoped.

Roslin sat up, noticing the debris first. _Well that's just frakkin' great. I finally get his office organized and somebody tries to blow it up_. "What is going on here?" she managed, not having seen Sharon yet. Not hearing a response, she turned her eyes toward the ground and spotted the other woman. "Lieutenant, are you alright?"

Sharon groaned and sat up. "I don't think anything's broken," she paused and looked at the door, "but I think we're stuck her for a while."

The president stood and walked toward the door to examine it, then began to search the room for the phone. She found it in tact and tried to call CIC. Adama and Tigh realized quickly that the door must have been blocked. He grabbed the phone and hoped it was her.

"Bill, can you hear me?" she called.

He sighed with relief. "Yes. Are you and Lieutenant Valerii alright? What the hell happened?"

Roslin glanced over at the door as she spoke. "We're fine. Some sort of bomb went off near the door and we can't get out though."

Adama looked at Tigh. "Call maintenance and tell them we've got work to do." He turned back to the phone. "It's good to know everyone's alright. We'll get you out of there as soon as we can. For now you'll just have to sit tight," he explained.

"How long do you think it'll take?" she asked him.

"I don't know at this point, but it looks like at least a few hours. Can you and the lieutenant see if there are any other bombs?" he suggested.

Roslin looked over at Sharon. "Do you hear anything else?"

Sharon walked around the room as best she could, moving debris aside, and shook her head. "I think it was just the one."

The president turned back to the phone. "It looks like it was just one bomb."

"We'll get you out of there as soon as we can, Adama out," he ended by habit.

"Alright, Laura out," she ended. After hanging up the phone she faced Sharon. "You might as well pull up a chair. It looks like we're going to be here for a while," she remarked before finding a chair herself.

Sharon grabbed a chair and stared at the ground. They sat in silence with their own thoughts for a while. "Since we've got nothing but time, there are things we could talk about," said Sharon, breaking the silence.

_I really don't want to argue right now_. "I owe you thanks for saving my life," she began.

The other woman nodded and faced her. "You're welcome, Ma'am. Before we go back to what I came to talk to you about in the first place, there are some other things I'd like to say," she paused as if waiting for approval.

"Go ahead," Roslin encouraged.

"Do you know what it's like to have to prove yourself every day, not just to the people you work with, but so you can look yourself in the mirror? Every day people watch me, like they're waiting for me to start acting Cylon and hurt someone. It's taken years for anyone to trust me, and all I've ever tried to do is be human and help out. And now, when I want to be human and raise a family, you take that chance away from me," she expressed.

Roslin swallowed hard, feeling genuine sympathy for Sharon. "It wasn't because I thought you would be a bad mother, it was-"

This time had given Sharon the opportunity she had been looking for. "I lost my daughter because of you!" she declared.

The president put her hands up as a calming gesture. "Let me explain. I owe you the truth, one of my aides was looking after your daughter. Because she was a hybrid we wanted her closely observed. When we escaped New Caprica, the woman was killed and your daughter was missing. I was wrong, and I'm so sorry," she admitted. _Why did I tell her all of it? Because I'm tired of lying about this,_ she reasoned.

Sharon held off on a rebuttal, seeing tears glistening in Roslin's eyes. "It took guts to tell me all that, Ma'am. I guess we all frak up sometimes," Sharon stated.

Roslin nodded and spoke softly. "You know, you're not the only one in the public eye. I feel like I'm under a magnifying class sometimes. I have the Quorum, all of the colonists, and even the military looking to me for what we're doing next. There is always another problem to fix and sometimes it seems like it won't end. I'm glad to be doing what I'm doing, but it's never been easy. I've got the press watching my every move, the Quorum evaluating whether or not I've made the right move, certain representatives following me to ensure that I make a move they like, and the military making sure that I make a move that agrees with them too."

"That's a lot for one person. I never thought of it that way before. I thought of you as someone who was after power who hated Cylons so much that death might have been welcome to living as you are," Sharon expressed.

"I've learned a few things since then. Life is too important to be callously tossed away for ideals when important matters must be taken care of," the president replied.

Sharon nodded with understanding. "Does being married to the Old Man help you at all?" she inquired.

Roslin smiled and blushed, not having expected that question. "He helps me stay sane, and he acts as a balance when we argue. If he couldn't stand up to me, it wouldn't be worth my time to talk to him," she paused, trying not to tell the other woman too much of her own personal feelings for the man, though she realized that everything was painfully etched in her face. "If anything ever happened to him, I don't know if I could hold it together," she admitted.

"And I thought you two were plotting on killing each other off," Sharon remarked with a smirk. "If anyone knew you were actually in love with him, that would seriously frak up the rumors about finding your body or his out an airlock one day."

Adama and the others in CIC were still trying to figure out what had happened. "Sir, just before it went off, the bomb received a signal from another part of the ship," one of the lieutenants informed him.

"How the hell did someone get a bomb in there?" Adama demanded.

"Probably happened during the blackout," Tigh mentioned.

"I want that signal traced and I want this problem stopped before we see more like it," the admiral growled.

In the office, before Roslin could dispute what the other woman had said, the phone rang. "Yes?"

"Laura, we need you to make sure that the two of you are as far away from the door as possible. It looks like we're going to have to blast it open," Adama's voice told her.

"Alright, see you on the flip side, Laura out," she stated.

"Okay, Adama out," he ended.

She told Sharon what he had said and the two women stood at the back of the room. They plugged their ears and ducked as an explosion imploded the door. This office is never going to be clean again, Roslin thought as she stood and helped Sharon to her feet. "The question still stands, may I start a family?" Sharon asked before other people could rush into the room.

"I promise to give you a real answer by tomorrow or the day after, but no later," the president conveyed.

Half of CIC entered the room to assess damages, the admiral heading the group. The second he caught site of Roslin, he sauntered over to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. "I was trying to keep you safe. I wasn't even thinking that anyone would try to-"

She placed a hand on his mouth for a moment. "It wasn't your fault, so stop blaming yourself. As you can see, all of us are fine. I'm just bad luck for offices lately," she remarked.

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "So much for trying to keep the place organized. It looks like you'll just have to use the desk in our quarters for a while."

Remembering duty, they separated and began coordinating a way to clean the debris as files were picked up and set aside. Sharon left after shaking Roslin's hand in a gesture of truce. The admiral raised an eyebrow and she explained, "We had a talk. I told her that she'd have an answer to her question within the next two days."

He nodded. "It's your call then. Why don't you head home and get cleaned up? Tory called and said that one of the representatives demands a meeting with you," he informed her.

"Alright, I'll do that and then I'll call her," Roslin responded before leaving the office.

After calling Tory, the president learned that the representative was Tom Zarek. Having been ousted from two offices for different reasons, Roslin agreed to meet with Zarek in the laboratory after personnel had been dismissed. "Madame President," he said with mechanic ceremony.

"Mr. Zarek," she replied automatically.

"I'll say that it's nice to be talking to you again instead of the admiral," the Sagittarian mentioned.

She kept herself in check. "I'm sorry my schedule didn't let me meet with you sooner."

There was something dark in the way he chuckled. "I was beginning to wonder if he'd kidnapped you somehow and was trying subtly to replace you," the man conveyed silkily.

_So he does know about that old law. I've been stupid about this. With Lee and Tory both gone, I don't have anyone to take with me to meetings. I should have refused to meet with him alone_, she reasoned. "Mr. Zarek, I was indisposed. Now I think it's time that we got down to the business of this. It has become imperative to _Galactica_ that we obtain the right metals and enough of them. We don't have much time to do this, so I suggest that you and your team speed it up," she told him bluntly.

Zarek seemed incredibly relaxed. "I will do my best, Madame President. And you'll forgive my saying so, but someone in your condition probably shouldn't be so involved in so many projects."

She looked at him over the top of her glasses as if he was a misbehaving student. "Just what did you mean by 'someone in my condition'?" she demanded quietly.

He smirked. "Being pregnant, you really should be more careful," he explained.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself so that she would not contemplate killing the man. "I am not pregnant, Mr. Zarek. I have no idea where such a rumor started, but I can assure you that it is untrue," she articulated.

"Your avoidance of a few things and the three days you were unaccounted for looked suspicious," he told her plainly.

She sighed and folded her hands in front of her. "I was working with the colonists when the flu was circulating and found myself a victim of it a few days later. I spent the missing three days battling the flu, and this meeting is over," she concluded, walking past Zarek to the door.

Before she could leave, he grabbed her wrist. "You should find a better way to deal with rumors," he whispered snidely. Then he released her and left the laboratory first.

When she reached the quarters, her first impulse was to take a shower, washing away the day's problems and worries. It had been a long couple of days and none of it was looking to be any shorter tomorrow. Adama had just come home when she exited the shower in gray sweats with a towel around her head. He looked up and dealt her a half-smile. "That's your second shower in one day, isn't it? Should I ask how your day went, or should I just dodge the flying objects?" he joked.

She walked over to him and they hugged. "It's good to see you too."

He got himself a glass of water and they sat down on the couch. "What happened after the office incident?" he asked.

"I had to meet with Zarek to discuss the metal situation," she admitted.

The admiral almost spit his water out. "You met with him alone? Laura, what were you thinking? You know he wants to get rid of you!"

"With Lee and Tory elsewhere, I had little choice," she countered.

"Don't do that again. You can take me or even Saul to meetings with him," Adama said evenly.

She would have argued further, but decided to let him win this one, thinking back to the way Zarek had responded to her. "Alright, I won't meet with him alone again," she agreed.

The admiral nodded and finished his water. "Did anything else happen today that I should know about?" he questioned.

She smirked and sighed, taking the towel down from around her head and letting it rest on her shoulders for her hair to air-dry. "Zarek thought I was pregnant too. Of course I told him that I wasn't, but this is becoming annoying. First Doc, then Tory, and now Zarek of all people," she mentioned.

"Did this start because of the three days you missed?" Adama asked, trying to hold back a smirk.

"Yes, for all three of them. Also, Zarek thought it might be one of the reasons that you kept meeting with him," she explained. "Honestly Bill, do I have to hold a press conference to tell people I'm not pregnant?"

He chuckled and she glared at him with irritation. "It'll blow over in a couple of months when they see that their wrong, or when something else shows up that is newsworthy. Right now they're bored, and when they're bored they interfere in your personal life," he pointed out.

She crossed her arms. "That's easy for you to say. You don't have people in CIC asking you the questions I've been getting," she retorted.

That made him laugh more. "And thank goodness. We'd really be screwed if I had problems like that."

The realization of what she had implied toward him made her giggle and lean into him. "Good point. I'm just so sick of all this. I wish I could have two days off once a month," she remarked.

An idea occurred to him and he stood. "Why don't you go rest for a while and I'll make dinner?" he suggested.

A grin of amusement flashed on her face. "You can cook?"

"I'll have you know I cook quite well. I was cooking for myself long before you moved in," he replied indignantly.

She threw her hands up in surrender. "Alright, I have unknowingly stepped on the toes of a great cooking guru. I think I'll take my leave."

"I'll get you when dinner's ready," he told her as she headed for the bedroom and a nap.

(My thanks to jacky, Mariel3, marisolcaley, asouldreams, mkiara, and divadarling for reviewing :D)


	6. For better or for worse

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"Falling in love is like being in an ambush; you never see it coming and what it finally does, it's too late to retreat." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 6: For better or for worse

It had been one week since Adama's office had been bombed and even with Tory's help they still had few leads. Looking for an excuse to relax one evening, he and Roslin decided to cook dinner together with the intention of inviting Lee and Dee over to share the meal. The plan was simply and they managed not to get in each other's way in the kitchen. His son and daughter-in-law arrived as the meal was finished and soon they were all seated at the table. Both the admiral and the president were looking over the contents of the table to see if anything was missing.

"If you'll excuse me, I need one more thing," the admiral said before heading toward the kitchen.

The president looked at the dishes on the table and stood also. "I forgot the salad, excuse me," she stated.

Roslin went back into the kitchen to get the salad while Adama was looking for the pepper. She spotted the salad on the counter, but turned to see him looking for said condiment. He saw it on the counter next to her, but she was quicker and grabbed it first. "The chicken has enough seasoning already," she argued.

He tried to reach for it, but she stood on her tiptoes and held it high above their heads. "I happen to like a lot of pepper on my chicken. It's my food, not yours, so hand it over," he retaliated.

Lee and his wife had heard parts of the conversation and Dee took a sip of her water. Then she tapped Lee on the shoulder. "I don't have a fork."

Lee stood and nodded. "I'll get one," he relayed.

She strained herself so that he still could not pluck it from her right hand. "I cooked the meal and seasoned it myself, and I'm telling you that it has enough seasoning."

"Woman, hand over the pepper already," he protested. She shook her head and then an idea came to him and he smirked. "Alright, then we'll have to do this the hard way."

He began tickling her sides, hoping that his suspicions were correct. They did not disappoint him as she squirmed and giggled. "Of all the… immature things to… would you just…," she attempted to coherently argue, but failed miserably as her arms found their way to his chest.

Then he stopped and she caught her breath, only to hold it again as he slid his hands from her sides to run up her back. She looked up at him and saw mischief in his eyes. He gave her a quick peck on the lips, only to be playful. She returned the gesture and then something happened that neither had expected: he was holding her in his arms and she was kissing him back. They were sharing tender kisses that would have built up to something else, had Lee not chosen that moment to walk into the kitchen.

"Hey guys, we're short one-" Lee stopped dead when he saw what they were doing. "Frak, you two should leave a warning note or something. And here I thought all this time you two were just playing house. I can't believe… I mean I'm sorry I interrupted…," Lee could not quite form the words he was looking for.

Adama grinned, keeping his gaze on Roslin. "That's alright, son. I got what I came for, the pepper," he remarked as he lightly took the shaker from her hand and walked casually out of the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

Roslin crossed her arms in front of her and followed him out, saying, "Bill, I told you it doesn't need any more seasoning."

Lee noticed the salad as he was looking for a fork and picked it up. When he returned to the table, he set the salad down and handed the fork to Dee. Then he sat down and Dee eyed him curiously. "What was that all about?"

He leaned toward her and whispered, "Next time you get your own fork. I'm not going into the kitchen after those two again."

Thinking that his response was cryptic and that the situation was too awkward, Dee just laughed. Everyone began to eat dinner and chat casually about their days. As they cleaned up the dishes later, some things needed to be discussed. "Lee, can you tell us what's going on with Zarek and his committee?" Roslin inquired.

"He won't tell us much, but the scientists think they've found some asteroids that are actually worth checking out. I did find out though that he's got some tabloid reporter working for him. I think his name's Marley. He's the one who was behind the article about the pants," Lee relayed.

Roslin blushed at the memory. "If only we could redirect him to something else," she commented.

"Pants?" Dee questioned.

Adama chuckled. "Yes, pants. It started with a quote I read. We were joking about it as I was walking her back to her quarters and the reporter took it the wrong way. The article-"

"Bill, I think we've said enough about this. It was bad enough the first time," Roslin told him with a smirk.

He sighed resolutely. "Alright, anyway, have you heard anything else about the damage we've been seeing on the ship?" the admiral asked his son.

"It's not random sabotage, if that's what you mean. Engineering, the blackout, your office, it's going somewhere. Whoever's behind it planned for something specific, but I haven't figured out what," Lee remarked.

"I have a meeting with Tory in the morning to see if she's learned anything valuable," Roslin mentioned.

"The only thing I know for sure is that there's a mastermind behind it," Lee concluded.

He and Dee soon left while Roslin and Adama finished washing the dishes. "I hope we fix this soon. It's hard enough fighting the Cylons without having to fight ourselves too," the admiral commented as he put the plates away.

The president nodded as she dried the glasses. "I feel like we are getting close to something, but we aren't reading it right."

They made their way to the couch and continued their discussion. "Well let's think; who or what's been most affected by the sabotage?" Adama pursued.

"Thinking back to what's happened, I would say you've been impacted more than others have," she replied.

He sat back and sighed. "The only good thing lately is that Lieutenant Agathon hasn't bothered me lately. Did you ever give Sharon an answer?"

"I told her that it was alright to start a family. As risky as it might be, the hybrids would be worth studying, and maybe through it, the human race might be better," Roslin explained.

Adama studied her face and pushed a dark auburn strand of hair behind her hear, his hand lingering for a moment. "Did you tell her that because you really believe it, or because it's your penance for the guilt regarding what happened to the first child?"

His probing, yet calm gaze expected and searched for the truth. She took a deep breath and gave him what he sought. "I suppose it's a little of both, really. I do believe that I don't have the right to deny them a family, and I still feel terrible about what happened to Hera. It wasn't fair, and I just glossed over it and moved onto the next problem."

He pulled her into a warm hug and held her for a while. "That's because you tried to separate the politician from the person. I know that there are decisions that need to be made with a firm hand. But I also know that other decisions are made with the heart, and those are the more difficult ones."

"Did Colonel Acton say that?" she asked, pulling herself deeper into his embrace.

"He once said, 'The head and the heart are enemies. When you use your head, you see strategy and goals. But when you use your heart, you see the people in between. The heart will always give you more problems because that's the one you're stuck with after you reach the goals.' There's a reason why he was required reading," Adama relayed.

_Well, I suppose it's now or never, but we need to talk_. They slowly pulled away and she stood, clearing her throat. "Bill, what happened in the kitchen?"

He rose and they walked toward the bedroom. "I took the pepper back," he stated wryly.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm playfully. "You know what I meant. What were we thinking in there? I'm sure I can guess what your son was thinking," she mentioned while grabbing her nightgown and heading into the bathroom to change.

"We're walking a fine line between what we know and what we don't know. What happened in the kitchen was only a new strategy," he relayed.

Later when they were both under the covers, she spoke again. "Next time I have a strategy that I wouldn't mind trying," she told him with mischief in her voice.

He chuckled. "Just as long as you stop stealing my condiments," he stated gruffly.

Her head ended up on his shoulder between his right arm and his neck. Her left hand was on his chest while her right hand found itself entwined with its left. "You do realize that we have one hell of a risky sleeping arrangement," she teased.

"This isn't risky; this is how we keep track of each other," he goaded her. She laughed softly and the two drifted into a comfortable slumber.

Roslin met Tory for breakfast at the quarters in the morning. "Do you have an update for me?" the president asked as she took a bite of her toast.

The other woman nodded. "Madame President, someone from the Quorum has been organizing the sabotage. There is also a lot of anti-Cylon activity going on. I have compiled a list of who has been involved so far in both areas," the aide said as she handed a notepad to the president.

She looked over the names and noticed that something looked familiar. Then she sighed wearily, realizing that they were ex-prisoners. "Is there any way that you can gather evidence without getting yourself too involved with these people?" she asked.

Tory nodded and folded her hands. "I believe so. I also think that both you, and the admiral, are being targeted."

"Thank you, Tory, I'll keep that in mind," Roslin responded and the meeting was over.

It was mid-afternoon when Tory sent Roslin a classified file by way of Cally. The president walked speedily down the corridors, wanting to read the files in their quarters. What she had not realized was that having only a few pairs of shoes and speed-walking in shoes that have seen a good deal of use can cause more stress than the shoes could handle. She heard a sickening crack before the heel of her right shoe broke, causing her to fall right into a bulkhead.

Stunned for a moment, she got back shakily to her feet and decided that the best way to go anywhere was simply to take both shoes off for a while, since her destination was almost within eyesight. Then she noticed the drops of blood on the ground. _Oh that's just great, now my nose is bleeding, and possibly a few other things. I should probably call Doc_.

Reaching the quarters, she entered and went straight to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she sighed and tried to wash off some of the blood. Her nose was bleeding, and so was a scratch across her forehead. She had the makings of two black eyes, and a bad bruise on one cheek. Her right shoulder was also sore. _I can't walk to Life Station looking like this_, she thought. Resolved, she called Dr. Cottle and asked him to make a house call.

She answered the door with her hair hanging in her face. He spoke as she let him in. "Now what could be so blasted important that you asked me to-" he stopped cold when he noticed her face. "What the hell happened to you?"

Sitting down on the couch, she sighed and tried to smile wryly. "The heel of my shoe broke as I was walking and I fell into a bulkhead."

"Good grief, you sure do a number on yourself. Let's see now," he paused to sit down next to her. "You're lucky you don't need stitches. Looks like it'll just have to heal. At least it looks like you stopped the bleeding," he told her.

Adama entered his quarters and was worried the instant that he spotted Dr. Cottle. Then he glanced at her. _She looks like she's been in a fight, but if there was any real danger, she'd have tried to reach me or there would be a security detail here_. "What'd the other guy look like?" he asked wryly, trying to lighten the strained mood he saw in her eyes.

"The bulkhead faired far better than I did," she remarked.

_Thank goodness it wasn't some sort of attack_, he thought. "I'll get you some ice and then you can tell me what happened."

He headed to the kitchen and retrieved an icepack while Cottle finished inspecting the damage. Handing the pack to her, the admiral sat with her on the other end of the couch. "That should help," Cottle remarked regarding the ice.

"Thank you," Roslin said to him before turning to the admiral. "I was trying to get here quickly and the heel of my shoe broke, causing me to fall into a bulkhead. I called Doc because it could be horrendously bad publicity for me to walk to Life Station looking like this."

"We're getting you a pair of flats first thing in the morning," the admiral remarked. She tried to smile and nodded.

Cottle soon left and Adama spotted the file. "Mind telling me why you were in such a hurry?"

She picked up the file and opened it, revealing a list of names and what the people had been seen doing. "This is evidence against those saboteurs who've been causing you so much trouble. We're only missing two things: proof of where they might strike next, and proof leading to which of the Quorum members is behind this."

He whistled. "I'll say this, Tory is definitely thorough. It looks like she thinks we're both targets too. I shouldn't be surprised considering that a bomb went off in my office while you were using it."

The wheels in Roslin's mind began turning as she pondered what he had just said. Then her head shot up. "Wait a minute; the bomb was planted during the blackout, before you put me in your office. That means that you've been the target the whole time!"

"What else is new?" he added wryly.

"If it has anything to do with the Quorum, then it's my fault that your life is in jeopardy," she expressed with a heavy sigh.

"Laura, we've had problems before and we'll find the answers we need, especially with Tory and Lee helping," he tried to reassure her.

She sat back against the couch and rubbed her neck. "It doesn't make this mess any easier though."

They slept curled up together again. At the painfully early hour of 0500 there was a loud knock at Adama's door. He slid out of the bed, careful not to wake her, and grabbed his bathrobe to pull over his pajamas. Grumbling to himself, he made his way over to the door and opened it to find his son standing there.

"Lee, this had damn well better be important. Do you have any idea what time it is?" he questioned gruffly.

Lee stepped inside the quarters and shut the door. Adama noticed that he carried a newspaper. "Believe me, it is. I need to talk to both you and Laura," he began.

The admiral sighed and glanced back at the bedroom. "Of all the days to drop by, you had to do it when she could really use the extra sleep," he told Lee as he walked back into the bedroom.

The younger man watched as his father moved toward what was obviously his vacated space on the bed. Roslin had her hand over the empty space. Adama sat down and took her hand in both of his. "Bill, what's going on? It's too frakking early to be up. Come back to bed," Lee heard her mutter in a sleep-lowered voice.

Adama stroked her hair. "Lee says he has something we need to see," he replied.

With a groan, she got up, moving back over to her side of the bed to retrieve her bathrobe. Lee was back in the living room and stood to speak to them. However, all the color drained from his face the moment he glanced at hers. She raised her hand to ward off anything he might say. "I promise that it looks worse than it is," she mentioned.

"What the hell happened?" the younger man questioned.

"I was in a hurry. The heel of my shoe broke and I fell into a bulkhead, that's all," she explained. "Now why in Kobol's name did you feel the need to come by at 0500?" she demanded.

Lee gulped, suddenly wishing that he had waited an hour. "Did you walk to Life Station after the incident?"

She shook her head. "No, I called Dr. Cottle for a house call and came straight here."

The younger man brought out the newspaper. "Marley must've seen you because this is today's paper," he remarked, unrolling it. The headline read: "The Dangers of Being Married to the Admiral." Both Adama and Roslin stared at the paper in shock. "Marley's suggesting that you've hit her. Dad, with Marley I think Zarek's trying to discredit you," Lee surmised.

"Why can't that man find somebody else's life to frak with?" the two men heard Roslin mutter.

Adama put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. "You feel like making coffee?" he asked gently.

She smiled over at him. "That's probably a good idea. I'll make some for all of us and then we can come up with a plan."

Steaming mugs of excellent coffee in their hands, the three of them discussed the issue again. "I think our best course of action is to hold a press conference. I'll wear as much makeup as possible and tell them the truth. Bill, you can be up there with me while I talk to them," she suggested.

"The press conference sounds like a good idea, but are you sure you want me to join you up there?" he inquired.

She nodded. "We have to visibly show the people that there is nothing suspicious between us."

At a press conference at 0700, Roslin stood with Adama next to the stairs leading to the podium, fixing her emerald dress suit. She had managed to hide most of the bruises with makeup and what she could not hide was covered by how she had done her hair that morning. "Ready?" she asked Adama.

He nodded and offered her his arm. "Of course." She took it and smiled graciously.

Standing at the podium, she cleared her throat and began, holding up the newspaper. "The article on the front page regarding myself and my husband is absolute trash. I find it appalling that I have to hold a press conference explaining that the injuries spoken of in the article were caused by the heel of my shoe braking and my then having fallen against a bulkhead. These allegations of my husband are totally false and I cannot believe the audacity of the press to print such blatant lies, or the audacity of people to believe them. He and I have a common goal of keeping the colonies united, as well as continued cooperation with the military. By spreading such lies, someone is trying to subvert this government and for your sakes as well as ours, I suggest that you refrain from spreading any tasteless rumors you might hear. Thank you," she orated, everything being said calmly

Then she looked over and smiled at the admiral, silently asking if there was anything that he wanted to add. "It is important that we're all careful in what we believe. We've got enough enemies out there without making our own," he said into the microphone.

His brief statement ended the press conference and the two walked out, arms linked. She stopped by the door and faced him. "Well said, Bill," she stated. Then she realized that he was smiling at her. "What is it?"

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "That's the first time you've actually referred to me as your husband, not the admiral," he pointed out.

She blushed. "We may yet survive this," she added quietly. It had become a theme of theirs over the past few years, survival. They resumed their pace and left the room.

Lee had been correct about Zarek and his team. Later that day they had found metal deposits in an asteroid field that would be sufficient enough to use on _Galactica_. Fitting four small shuttles with equipment that could be adapted to mining was not too difficult and in three days the ships were ready. The plan was for Zarek and his team to take the four ships out and mine the asteroids. Then the metals would be extracted and refined. Roslin and Adama decided to look over the flight plans and ships' schematics before the vessels left the hanger.

"From what he told us, the ships will be mining closely together, but functioning almost independently, with a moderate communication required," the president mentioned.

"At least it means that Zarek trusts his team. He put Lee in charge of one of the ships too," the admiral commented.

"Zarek might trust his team, but do we trust him to run this operation smoothly?" Roslin pointed out.

Adama dealt her a wry smile. "Not particularly, which is why I'll be joining one of the ships."

She looked at him wide-eyed. "Bill, you're a target right now. Who knows what he plans to pull on you out there? You've told me yourself that it's a bad idea to be around him. And what about the Cylons? Having you over there is too risky," she expressed.

He sighed and studied her for a long minute before giving her a reply. "Saul can handle the Cylons, especially with you and Kara in CIC while we're out there."

_I can't believe that he'd do this. He can't be serious_, she thought as she placed both hands on the table and looked up at him. "Bill, don't make me order you to stay put."

_So it's back to this again_. "This one's my call, _Madame President_. If he's the Quorum member who has people working for him who are behind the sabotage we've been seeing, then I'm going to find out and see to it that they don't sabotage our only way at the moment to acquire metal for repairs," he retorted.

It stung her when he used her title. Anger and hurt were in her eyes as she looked back at him. "Dammit Bill, listen to me! This isn't an order; I'm making this request as your wife," she paused and took a few steps toward him. "Don't do this."

He reached out and touched her shoulder. She inched closer to him and soon they held each other in an embrace. _When did we get so close?_ "I'm doing this for the good of the fleet. If Zarek put Lee on a different ship than the one he's on, then he's planning something."

The phone rang and they had to break their embrace to answer it. Adama picked it up. "Adama. I'll be right there, Lee. Tell Zarek that he needs to be patient," he commented as he hung up the phone and faced Roslin. "The teams are ready and wanting to rush out of here."

"I take it that you'll be going with them on this first trip, or will you wait until they drop off some of the raw ore?" she inquired.

"If something's going to go wrong, they might not wait for a second trip," he relayed.

She sighed resolutely and walked over to him again. Then she surprised him by putting one hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder, leaning up to kiss him warmly. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. "You had better make damn sure to come back," she whispered.

He kissed her forehead before they stepped out of the embrace. "I fully intend to," he responded.

Adama was on the same vessel as Zarek when the ships left. The two men stood at the front window, looking out at the asteroid belt. "So she sends me a watchdog," the Sagittarian goaded the admiral.

He bristled, but decided not to let Zarek get the better of him. "Think of me as that itch you can't get rid of."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Zarek muttered darkly.

The mining operation seemed to proceed without a hitch. Arm-like devices broke off parts of the asteroids, bringing them onboard the ship. The geologists would then use other tools to extract the metal deposits and prepare them to be processed and refined on _Galactica_. All four of the ships made two return-trips and two made a third trip. Roslin stood with Kara and Tigh in CIC watching the ships.

Adama called over to give a status report from the left-most ship. "They've collected double the ore they had planned on. Everything seems to be working fine."

He had to leave the messages vague because of the people around him. Adama had walked around the ship, noting that at least everyone looked like they were doing their duties. Yet his gut told him that something still was not quite right with the whole thing. His suspicions grew when the ship met with one of the other vessels and Zarek went to the other ship.

Back in CIC, Dee had been checking the scanners. Suddenly she gasped and called out to Tigh, "Colonel, we've got fifty DRAIDS on the scanners!"

Roslin got on the phone and called Adama. "Bill, we've got fifty DRAIDS headed our way. You need to get out of there now," she informed them.

"We'll do our best, Laura," he replied.

As the ships began drifting back toward _Galactica_, the Cylons began firing. The Adama swallowed hard as he watched Lee's ship take heavy fire. When the phone rang, he grabbed it quickly. "Lee? You took heavy fire on the aft side? Can you dock? Alright, hang on," the older man told him.

Roslin stood in CIC watching as the swarm of Cylons attacked the shuttles mining the asteroids. Hands pressed flatly before her on the planning table, she watched closely, hoping that her husband was alright. Since the press conference, she had begun to acknowledge him as her husband and now as she watched the battle, she could not remove the word from him. Just then, a cracking transmission came through.

"This is Adama to CIC, we've run into more trouble than we planned for. We're going to have to-" the transmission cut off as the left-most ship began to explode in grotesque fireworks that seemed to back the DRAIDS away.

The president gasped and placed her right hand over her mouth, too stunned to do much else. _No, this cannot be happening. He can't be gone, not like this. I never really told him how I feel. I should have said something before he left. I'll never see him again. He's gone, oh frak he's gone_. It was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under her as she looked on with horror, leaning farther over the table as the Cylons left the area. "Quick, somebody get her a chair," Tigh ordered. Roslin did not even hear him as she fought to keep breathing.

(My thanks to digidaisy20, marisolcaley, asouldreams, and divadarling for reviewing :D; I apologize in advance that due to technical difficulties and upcoming projects, I will not be able to post another chapter until sometime next week.)


	7. Till death do us part

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"Surprises are like guerrilla warfare; they'll knock you flat on your ass if you don't look for them." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 7: Till death do us part

Roslin sat down slowly in the chair Tigh had put by her and then the room came back into her focus. Every eye was on her, so she resolved quickly to pull herself together. Looking over her shoulder at the officers, she spoke. "Scan the area for survivors, or other vessels."

One of the lieutenants looked back at her with confusion. "Ma'am, there are no other vessels in the area," he paused and stared at his readings again, "but that's odd."

"Speak up," Tigh requested.

"Sir, that transmission we received was not from the main vessel, but from one of our other ship," the lieutenant stated.

Dee spoke next. "Ma'am there's an incoming transmission. It's got the admiral's call sign."

That warm feeling that flooded every cell of her body was hope. "Then by all means, put it through," she requested.

"CIC, this is Adama, we had to jump quickly to avoid being caught. Sorry if we scared anyone over there. Requesting permission to doc," his gravely voice stated. Roslin's pulse quickened and she had to remember to breathe

"Come on home, Bill," said Colonel Tigh. He turned to see the president leaving the room.

"I'll be at the docking bay," she added as she kept walking.

All of the ships accept for the one that exploded were present. She slowly waded through the crowds and found the ship she was looking for. Admiral Adama stood as the shuttle doors opened, expecting Colonel Tigh as he said, "Permission to come aboard."

A familiar feminine voice answered, "Permission granted."

He stepped out to find her, looking at him as if she had not seen him in years. Still trying to act as if everything was in name, he simply took her hands in his. "We made it, all except for six. It wasn't the Cylons that destroyed the ship though. Somebody planted a bomb. I think we should-" she interrupted him.

"I thought I'd lost you," she managed quietly, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Suddenly all the pretense they had been operating under melted away. He dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her in a secure embrace. Her hands slid up his chest and linked behind his neck. The two held each other close for a few moments. As they looked into each other's eyes, he knew and she knew; the pretending was over. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and cupped her face with his right hand, leaned toward her, and kissed her soundly. A small moan left the back of her throat and she returned the kiss, both of them oblivious to the stares the crew was giving them, as well as those of the others leaving the newly docked ship.

Eventually they had to break away, but he kept her on his arm as he walked through the crowd. They had to walk back to CIC to assess damages and she stayed beside him the entire time. "Bill, what happened out there?" she inquired when they reached CIC.

"I went to Lee's ship before the explosion to help him with the Cylons. Fortunately the casualties were low, even though we lost a ship. I need a security detail to track down a few people. I have a few suspicions about who planted the bomb and the brig's about to get a few new guests," the admiral mentioned, including Tigh in their conversation

"I'll get right on it, sir," Tigh stated as Adama handed him a list of names and he called for a security detail.

"What about Zarek?" Roslin asked the admiral.

He bent his head close to hers. "We still don't have enough evidence. I could detain him for questioning, but I don't think that'd do any good with him," Adama whispered.

She nodded in agreement. "So in the meantime we simply watch him carefully?" she suggested.

"We watch him and we watch our backs. He knows that I suspect he's up to something and he's not above getting rid of me. I wouldn't be surprised if he gave the order to plant the bomb just to get rid of me," he relayed in a quiet voice.

Roslin tightened her grip on his arm. "I'm not about to let that happen."

Adama smiled and turned to his wife to whisper, "Let's go home." She nodded and he looked over at Tigh, who had a knowing smirk on his face. "Saul, it's all yours," he said before walking out with Roslin.

"Looks like I've got the long shift," Tigh said to himself.

As they stood in front of his door, he opened it but then did something she had not seen coming: he suddenly picked her up. She giggled and eyed him incredulously. "Bill, what are you doing?"

He grinned back. "Something I should have done a long time ago. I'm taking my wife over the threshold, of course."

She blushed and tightened her arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss intensified as their lips met and soon they were kissing hungrily as he held her in him arms. Lee happened to head down that particular corridor with Dee, but they stopped dead in their tracks at the sight in front of them. "It's about time," Lee whispered as he and Dee elected to take another corridor.

Adama carried the Roslin through his doorway and broke the kiss long enough to close the door without putting her down. Then they walked to the bedroom. Kissing her again, he set her down gently on the bed. Their eyes met and he asked her, "Is this a direction we both want to go?"

She smirked and started undoing the buttons of his jacket as she kissed is mustache. "I really do like your mustache, and yes, I think it's time that we went this direction," she said before kissing him passionately. He deepened the kiss and leaned down with her. Her jacket slid off easily, as did his when she had finally conquered the buttons. His lips caressed her neck as other articles of clothing went missing in action.

They woke the next morning, cuddled up against one another. As his alarm went off, she nudged him. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you more than anything," he conveyed.

She turned toward him and kissed him soundly. "I love you so much." They were quiet again for a while, just enjoying the other's company. Then she turned toward him and faced him. "I guess this makes it official then, our marriage."

He grinned and shook his head before kissing her softly. "It's been official a lot longer than that. I think it was official when I woke up next to you because you were worried that I wasn't snoring."

"Maybe. For me I'd say things were official when I came back after spending three days with the colonists and we realized that we had missed each other," she relayed running her fingers over his mustache.

He played with her hair, touching the sensitive spots on the back of her neck. She moaned and he kissed her passionately. "I wanted to do that when we met that time you took my salt shaker, but I didn't think you'd let me," he whispered.

"If you had, we would have been where we are now a heck of a lot faster," she told him with a smirk.

Still holding her close, he chuckled. "My fault for being a gentleman and waiting then," he joked. After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, he looked at his clock. "I should get up and make sure CIC is still in one piece," he mentioned with a smirk.

She kissed his cheek, lingering to feel the weathered skin of his face. "I need to meet with Tory and find out if the press wants a statement about the mining."

After showering, the two went their separate ways. The admiral headed to CIC while the president sat at his desk in their quarters waiting for her aide. Tory was prompt as usual and produced a file as she sat in front of the desk. "Madame President, the press would like to know if the mining will continue after the arrests of some of the saboteurs occurred yesterday," she relayed.

One thing I can always depend on his how fast news travels around here. "I will need to confer with the my- I mean the admiral on the matter," Roslin replied, maintaining the air of formality that Tory was accustomed to.

"Then should I schedule a press conference this afternoon? If you don't speak with them, they will get their answers from others," Tory reminded.

The president nodded. "That would be fine. How are your findings?"

"I'm close, Madame President. I just need a few more days and I should have enough evidence to place Mr. Zarek in the brig," she responded.

"That's good, Tory. I want you to remember to be careful though. Your contacts might not always be trustworthy and I don't want you doing undercover work. Are we clear on that?" Roslin's tone matched a teacher's who was not willing to negotiate over a grade given on a test.

The aide nodded. "I will refrain from undercover work, Ma'am."

As the meeting ended, Roslin decided to track down Adama in CIC. He had arrived there, greeted with the usual 'Admiral on deck' salutes, but also several knowing smirks, especially from Tigh. "Sorry to leave you on duty like that, Saul," Adama remarked, regarding his and Roslin's quick departure from CIC the previous day.

Tigh stood close to him and chuckled. "Bill, you don't have to explain anything to me. You finally noticed that you're married to her, and I'm glad."

Adama let a smirk slide past his usual stony reserve. "Me too," he added.

After a moment of camaraderie, it was time to ask about the security detail. "We made arrests, didn't we?" the admiral asked, having heard a bit of morning scuttlebutt.

Tigh nodded. "The names you gave me were a big help, and then the president's aide showed up and gave us more. Whatever that young lady does, she's efficient at it. I'll bet if the Cylons had to face her there'd be a lot less of 'em," he remarked.

The admiral chuckled and then looked out at the expanse of stars and the asteroids. "We've still got mining issues at the moment though," Adama reminded.

"I bet the press will want to know about it," Tigh added.

Adama nodded. "Which is why I need to talk to…" he trailed off when she entered the room. After a few customary greetings and salutes, she entered the lower part of CIC.

"Colonel Tigh," she paused and greeted him.

"Madame President," he greeted her. Then he leaned closer and whispered, "if you don't mind, we sort of need Bill out here today."

She giggled and then quickly regained her composure. "Don't worry, I didn't come to steal him this time," then she turned to her husband. "What are we doing with the mining operation?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about it," he commented. "I think that we should continue looking for metal deposits, if not here than as we go on our journey. We should probably move on from this area in case the Cylons come back," he suggested.

"That sounds like a good plan," she began. "The press wants to speak with me about the mining operation. I'm curious to see if they have found anything descent to refine into something useful."

"At the very least, we'll have enough to fix the pipes in the engineering section," Tigh joined in.

A press conference was held in the middle of the afternoon, with Roslin announcing the capture of several saboteurs and the continuation of the mining projects as the fleet continued their journey toward Earth. The admiral and the president still worried about Zarek, but the week had seemed oddly quiet. Both were in CIC checking over various reports when Lee entered the room, practically dashing down the stairs.

"What is it, Lee?" Roslin inquired.

He looked to his father and then back to her. "Tory, your aide, she was eating in the mess hall and suddenly she just dropped her fork and fell out of her chair, unconscious and twitching," he told her frankly.

Worried as she was, Roslin remained in control. "Where is she now?"

"Doc's managed to stabilize her and he sent me to find you," the younger man conveyed.

Roslin glanced over at Adama and then to Tigh. "Colonel, I think it's best of my husband and I both go; do you mind?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, Ma'am," the stated. Then he looked toward the admiral. "Boss?"

"You've got it, Saul," the other man replied.

Roslin and Adama quickly reached Life Station and Lee led them to Tory. Roslin gasped, placing her hand over her mouth as she saw her aide looking uncharacteristically pale with an IV strapped to her arm. She looked for Cottle, hoping that he would give her some sort of explanation.

He did not disappoint her. "Madame President, Admiral, I'm glad you're both here. This young lady was poisoned. Thankfully we got her over here in time, and you have your son to thank for that. She was conscious a moment ago, saying something about a file that Lee found on her and asking for you, Madame President. She needs to stay here at least a week," Cottle informed them before walking away.

The president sighed heavily and watched the young woman sadly, pulling up a chair and sitting next to the bed. The admiral put a hand on her shoulder. She reached out with one hand to hold Tory's, and with the other hand she touched the admiral's. Then Tory's eyes fluttered open and she groaned. After a few minutes, she realized that there were other people in the room.

"Madame President, the file, you need to-" Roslin did not want the young woman to tire herself, so she interrupted.

"We have it right here. What is this about?" she inquired.

"I found out too much," the aide began weakly. "Zarek's been behind it all. The folder has confessions from people who have been doing things for him."

Roslin thumbed through the folder and sighed heavily. "You're right, but this wasn't the way to get it. You got too close. Cottle says that you are staying here for a week. I'd like to add that your part in this investigation has ended. I'll not have you risking your life like this anymore," her tone left little room for argument.

After they left the room, Zarek was located and placed in the brig. Though Marley had yet to be found, they attempted to persuade Zarek that they had the reporter, hoping for more leverage. Zarek stubbornly would not confess to anything.

"Madame President I would have thought you'd have more sense than this. These allegations are ridiculous and I will not stand to be held against my will like this," he protested.

"You will stay there until we think that you no longer pose a threat," she threw back.

Zarek walked over to the bars and crossed his arms, smirking arrogantly. "This isn't over yet, and we all know that. Roslin, press will tear you apart for having a representative in the brig for an undetermined length of time. You have no idea how much support I have with the people. When this does finally end, we'll see which one of us has more friends," he commented snidely.

"I didn't know scum had friends," Adama muttered to Roslin.

Observing the two, Zarek spoke again. "It seems that the Quorum did you two a favor after all. Don't expect any of this to last long. Both of you have very dangerous careers," he retorted as they walked out.

"The sooner we catch Marley, the better. Zarek has a point about the press," Adama stated as he and Roslin walked through the corridors.

"Like everything else, we'll deal with it together," she relayed.

The newspapers were questioning her decisions, but Zarek being behind bars was not as important an issue as repairing the ships. Marley still had not been found, but he had not done anything to make himself known either. Almost a month after the Cylon attack, Adama woke to the grading buzz of his alarm. Roslin was still curled up at his side, but as he sat up, he noticed that did not stir much and try to throw him out of bed to get his morning going as she had previously. He stroked her cheek with a callous hand. "Laura," he whispered.

"Mmm," she opened her eyes and sat up slowly. "I suppose its morning already," she muttered.

"Are you feeling alright? Usually you wake me up and tell met that my alarm's going off," he asked, eyeing her with concern.

She stretched and headed for her closet. "I'm fine; I've just been so busy lately working with the Quorum and the colonists that I'm perpetually tired," she answered.

He dressed and headed for the door. "You should rearrange your schedule so that you can take an hour's break once in a while," he advised. "Tell you what, I've got time to make breakfast and you can take a shower."

"I like that idea," she remarked with a smile before kissing him on the cheek and heading off to feel the refreshing hot water.

Later they sat down at the table for scrambled eggs and ham. Roslin was famished, but suddenly all the smells started to irritate her gag reflux. She quickly left the table and headed toward the bathroom, emptying her stomach of what little was there. Adama rushed back to her and felt her forehead.

"You don't feel warm. If I'd known that you felt that badly, I'd have gotten you a piece of toast. I don't remember the flu going around again though," he mentioned.

She sighed and gargled with the blue mouthwash on the bathroom counter. "It's not that; I probably ate something last night that didn't agree with me and it didn't hit until this morning," she suspected.

_Frak, why am I still tired? Maybe I am sick_, she wondered as she rubbed her neck. He came behind her and she felt his strong, gentle touch on her neck and shoulders, soothing out her stress. "I think you should pay Life Station a visit today," he advised. "How do you feel now?" he asked her a few minutes later.

They walked back to the kitchen table and sat down. Trying to ignore the smell of the food, she put salt and pepper on her scrambled eggs and ate a few forks full. "I'm still tired, but I'm also hungry. It was probably something I ate last night."

She could tell by his gaze that he was not buying her answer. The tea she drank helped her to feel better, but the smell of the food was still bothering her. Having finished eating, she sat down on the couch for a while. _What in the name of Kobol is wrong with me this morning? Perhaps Bill's right and I've just been working too hard_, she pondered.

He watched her as he cleaned up the dishes. She stared off and he knew she was deep in thought. As he watched her face though, he noticed as all the color drained from it and she put her hands to her mouth, as if witnessing something disturbing. "What is it?" he inquired, sitting next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

The thought that had occurred to her filled her with irrepressible terror and she faced him with panic in her eyes. "What if the cancer is back?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Pulling her to him in a secure embrace, he stroked her back. "Laura, you're thinking the worst out of something for no good reason. I'll walk you to Life Station and we'll figure out what it is first before you start planning for the worst. No matter what it is, we'll work through it together," he informed her.

She looked up at him and kissed him affectionately. "Alright, together then."

They put their glasses on and walked to Life Station, arms linked. As they walked, no one gave them any strange looks or off-color comments. The crew and everyone else were getting used to seeing the two so close. Cottle glanced over and raised an eyebrow as they walked into Life Station. "Which one of you is it today?" he questioned gruffly.

"I'm in for a checkup," Roslin commented.

Cottle looked from one to the other and smirked. "Well, have a seat. I have to ask though, why not make it a house call again?"

"We thought it would be less conspicuous just to go to Life Station like everyone else," Adama answered, winking at Roslin.

"I see. What you mean to say is that you've both accepted the fact that you're married finally," Cottle teased.

Roslin and Adama exchanged wry grins and he would have said more to Cottle, but the phone rang. "It's for you," the doctor said, handing the phone to the admiral.

Adama accepted it. "Hello? What's going on Saul? No, I'm at Life Station, but I'll be there shortly, Adama out," he said as he hung up. Then he turned back to Laura. "You come find me as soon as you know what's going on, alright?"

She nodded and he left. Cottle took her to another room and began examinations. When she was done he asked her to sit on one of the beds and wait for him. The whole thing had taken roughly half an hour. She had waited impatiently for fifteen minutes before he finally came back into her view. She looked into his eyes, anticipating bad news, and was met with a tender smile.

"Your cancer isn't back," he told her. She grinned and sighed with relief. After giving her a moment, he finished what he had to say. "You've been feeling tired and nauseated because you're pregnant."

Her mouth formed an 'o' and her eyes were as big as saucers. "Doc, is that even possible? I mean, what about the damage caused by the cancer to-"

"The Cylon DNA repaired all that," he interrupted.

"Are you sure?" she had to ask again.

Cottle chuckled. "Congratulations. And you're about four weeks along. I have a list of things you should and shouldn't be eating," he stated, handing her two lists.

She stood up, still in a perplexed daze. "Thank you. May I leave now?"

"Go on, I'm sure the father would like to know about this," Cottle relayed with a grin, watching her then leave the room.

The walk to CIC hardly registered in her vision. By the time she reached her husband, she had not heard her introduction to CIC, nor did she see the looks on anyone's faces. She greeted him with a broad grin. "I take it that things went well?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded. "Yes. Can we talk in your office?" The office had been repaired during the prior two weeks. He gave her one short nod and the two stepped through the door.

"I don't have cancer," she began.

He pulled her into a hug. "That's great! I told you that you didn't need to worry about that. Is there anything else?" he probed.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and remained smiling. "Bill, you might want to sit down for what I have to tell you," she suggested.

He took a seat by his desk and eyed her curiously. Then she took her hands in his. "Is everything alright?" he asked with a tinge of concern.

"Everything is better than 'alright' Bill. I'm pregnant," she relayed.

She watched his eyes, waiting for the information to sink in. Then he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her gently. "I thought that wasn't possible."

"So did I, but Doc told me that the Cylon DNA repaired everything," she paused and looked away from him. "I thought I'd never get a chance like this. I want this baby, do you?" she asked in a whisper.

His response was to wrap one arm around her waist as she still sat on his lap, and thread the fingers of his other hand through her hair, hitting the sensitive spot on the back of her neck again and then kissing her passionately. "Yes," he said simply when they finally broke for air.

"I think Tory is the next person that I should tell. The more she knows now, the less I'll have to answer for later," Roslin mentioned.

Adama nodded in agreement and let her go. "We should have Lee and Dee over for dinner to pass on the news too," he recommended.

"That's fine," she replied. They shared a few tender kisses before she headed for the temporary room that Tory had been given.

The aide opened the door and was surprised to find her employer. "Madame President, I wasn't expecting you. Did you need something?" she asked, masking her uneasiness.

"There are just a few things that I would like to talk with you about," Roslin began. They sat across from each other in the two chairs the room had. The president folder her hands in her lap, choosing her next words carefully. "Tory, do you remember what you first thought when I was asking you to gather information for me regarding the saboteurs?" she inquired.

"Yes, Madame President, I thought you were going to tell me that you were pregnant," Tory answered, now eyeing the woman in front of her with curiosity. "Is there any particular reason why?"

Roslin blushed slightly. "This time I'm here to talk to you because this time I am pregnant."

The aide's eyes nearly popped out of her head, but she quickly recovered herself. "What would you like me to do, Ma'am?"

"I need you to rearrange my schedule so that I don't have anything before 0930 for a few months. I will also need my schedule adjusted as the due date gets closer. Lastly, I should probably set up a press conference to explain myself to the fleet," the president explained, wearing her politician's smile to hide her discomfort at the thought of what the papers would do to her.

Tory smiled in response. "That's fine, Madame President, I can begin right now," she commented.

"Alright then, thank you Tory," the older woman stated before she rose and left.

Later in the evening, Roslin and Adama were cooking dinner together. "Are you sure that's going to be edible?" he questioned, leaning over her shoulder to examine the chicken with orange sauce that she was cooking.

She smirked and swatted his arm playfully. "Of course it is. I could ask you the same thing about the green concoction you have over there," she remarked, glancing at the green bean casserole he had made and the dried onions he was scattering on top of it.

"'Concoction, eh?' I'll have you know that this is an old family dish," he protested.

"It looks old alright," she told him with a wry grin.

He harrumphed and shook his head. "That's it woman, now you've asked for it," he commented before tickling her as he had when she had taken the pepper.

"Cooking guru… can't take… oh for Kobol's sake…," she trailed off, unable to stop laughing as she dropped the spoon she had been holding into the orange sauce.

When he stopped tickling her, she looked up at him, green eyes dancing with mischief. Just as before, he gave her a peck, and she returned it. However, he suddenly tightened his hold on her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they kissed passionately. When they stopped to breath, she giggled softly and looked over at the chicken.

"We really need to finish cooking, and we aren't getting anything done like this," she reminded him.

He chuckled and let her go, kissing her on the cheek. As she turned back to the chicken, he wrapped one arm around her waist. "But it's so much more fun this way," he said before he began lightly kissing her neck.

"Bill Adama, do you really want your son to walk in on this like he did the last time?" she scolded with a smirk.

The admiral sighed. "I suppose you're right. We've managed to disturb Lee enough already."

As Lee arrived with his wife, the table was set and the food was there. The only thing left was the drinks. As the other two entered, both Roslin and Adama noticed the shared smiled between the two of them. "Looks like they have news to," the admiral whispered to his wife as he sat down.

She nodded in response and then noticed the drinks. "I forgot the drinks. If you will excuse-"

Lee broke in before she could stand up. "I'll get them since everyone's already sitting down. I think I'll have Ambrosia. Dad?"

"I'll have the same, thanks," Adama replied.

Then Lee turned to the other two. And what would you ladies like to drink?" he asked.

"Water," they both said simultaneously. Then they faced each other with curious expressions.

"Okay, I'll be right back," the younger man stated as he headed for the kitchen.

Once everyone had drinks and had begun eating, Dee spoke. "We have something to tell you guys," she paused and looked over at Lee, who nodded. "We're having a baby," she relayed.

Roslin stood and walked over to hug the younger couple. "Congratulations, you two. That's wonderful news," she conveyed with sincerity.

Adama cleared his throat and she faced him. They seemed to ask with their eyes if it was the right time to share their news. She smiled and walked over to him. He stood and pulled Lee into a hug, then walked toward Dee and did the same. "Congratulations, he stated.

Then he wrapped an arm around Roslin's waist. Lee watched with a raised eyebrow while Dee gave a knowing smile. After a pause, Roslin spoke. "It's interesting that you would pick this evening to share your news with us," she paused and took one last look at her husband, "because we asked you two over with the intention of sharing our news with you. I'm pregnant too," she admitted.

Dee walked over and hugged her. "It's nice to know I won't be alone on this," she told Roslin with a perky smile.

Lee's had was on his chin and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Well?" Adama probed.

"You two really caught me off guard on that one. Congratulations. This is going to be weird, explaining to my kid how somebody his or her age is actually an aunt or an uncle," he chuckled and then he looked back to Roslin. "You have to tell the whole fleet, don't you?"

She sighed and nodded. "Eventually. For now I would ask that you two don't mention this."

They nodded and her request. After the younger pair had left, Adama and Roslin sat on the couch, having washed and put away the dishes. She sat with her feet curled up under her, leaning one elbow on the armrest as she studied him. He sat right next to her with his hands folded, looking out at the room. "Bill, what are you thinking?" she inquired.

He faced her with a calm smile. "Surprises."

"I can't believe that we're going to have a baby. With the cancer, being a mother is the last thing I ever expected. This is going to be one heck of a ride since on top of everything else, I'm president," she remarked.

Hearing the tremor of worry in her voice, he reached over and touched her face with his hand. She leaned into his touch and moved toward him so that the ended up comfortably wrapped in an embrace on the couch. "You'll do fine, at being a mother as well as a president. For me this is a second chance, maybe I'll do things right this time," he told her in that comforting rumble of a voice.

"But what will the people think of me?" she asked with concern.

He kissed her forehead. "They'll be happy because you took your own advice," he mentioned, chuckling.

"I should have known that it would come back to haunt me, that speech," she paused as a broad grin appeared on her face. "I'll bet the Quorum never expected this kind of a result."

Smiling back, he nodded. "Like everything else, we're in this together."

"So say we all?" she asked as they stood and headed to the room to look for their pajamas.

"So say we all," he responded when they crawled into bed that evening.

While they slept comfortably, the officer guarding the brig was shot by a man in disguise and Tom Zarek was set free, with a mission that he intended to complete. When Adama and Roslin went their separate directions to work, neither had given much thought to the Sagittarian representative. On his way to CIC, Adama was intercepted by Tigh and a security detail.

"Saul, what's going on?" the admiral questioned.

"Bill, the guard watching Zarek was found this morning, dead. That means he's loose and so is the guy who busted him out," Tigh explained.

Adama ran a hand through his hair. _What does that frakking idiot want_? "I want an armed security team on the lookout. We don't know what he's after and who he's got with him," the admiral suggested. Then he realized that Roslin would be out on _Galactica _working. "I also want a guard with my wife," he relayed.

The problem was that Roslin was walking through the corridors instead of at a specific location. As she sauntered through an empty corridor, she stopped walking, having heard a noise behind her. She turned around to find nothing but empty space. "I should have had Doc check my hearing," she muttered.

When she turned around, she was faced with blackness as a blindfold was quickly thrust as her face and tied behind her head. "What is the meaning of this? You can't do this to me, I'm the president," she snapped.

Her captor grabbed both of her arms and held them behind her. "If I were you, I'd be quiet. Don't bother calling out or struggling because you have no idea where we're going," he told her in a voice slicker than oil.

"Admiral Adama will find me," she retaliated.

The man holding her arms gave a harsh, nasal laugh. "He'll be dead soon. Zarek will rescue you and be a hero."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. _Oh Bill, wherever you are, please be okay. Please find me before we're both dead_, she worried.

"A bomb. Adama is so hard to track down, so why not get rid of him in the one place that he's bound to show up in sooner or later?" he asked rhetorically.

Adama stood in CIC when a call came for him. "Caller requests a secure line," one of the lieutenants told him.

"Did it say who it was from?" he inquired.

He got no response and took the call in his office, cursing in his head when he heard Zarek's voice. "Adama, I have something that belongs to you She seems alright now, but I can't promise that her safety will not be in jeopardy Come to your quarters and we'll negotiate her freedom," the Sagittarian finally ended.

"I'll be there," the admiral said tersely before slamming down the phone and storming out of CIC.

(Thank you all for your patience. My thanks to marisolcaley, Mariel3, divadarling, and billy () for reviewing :D)


	8. The rest of our lives

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

"Treat every day of your life like it's the only day that matters." – Col. Louis Acton

Chapter 8: The rest of our lives

Lee was heading toward his father's quarters to talk with him about the some of the new mining sites that the team had scanned. He knocked and waited for a response. After not receiving one, he let himself in and decided to wait on the couch.

After a few minutes, he heard the distinct sounds of someone trying to break into the room. Lee stood and noiselessly crept over to stand by the wall near the hatch's opening. A short, mousy man with oily oak-brown hair wandered into the room, setting a small cylindrical device with multicolored wires protruding from it on the coffee table, activating it.

The other man did not give the intruder a chance to turn and exit. Lee tackled him, forcing him to the ground. "I want to know who the frak you are, who sent you, and what you were sent to do!" he demanded.

Lee held the man's arms behind his back as the man struggled to get up. "Why should I tell you anything?" he retorted.

"Because I can see that you put a bomb in here and if you don't wanna get blown up, you should tell me who you," Lee pursued.

The man moved his head enough to glance over at the ticking bomb. "Alright, alright, my name is Marley. I work for Zarek. If I'm gonna get blown up, he's coming down with me," Marley stated.

At that moment, Adama marched through the hatch, expecting to meet Zarek and find a way to get his wife back. He looked to the right and noticed the man pinned under Lee. "Who's he?" Adama questioned.

"Marley, and he set a bomb," Lee explained as he stood the man up.

The admiral walked over to the bomb and picked it up. "We've got eight minutes to shut this thing off," he paused and turned toward Marley. "Do you know how to disarm this?"

"Oh frak no! I was supposed to leave before it went off!" Marley stated, looking back at the door frantically.

"Looks like we're going to have to use plan B then," Adama remarked. He sauntered out of his quarters, carrying the bomb. Lee followed him, dragging Marley along. The admiral turned to face his son as they hurried through the corridors. "You need to get him to the brig. Dragging him with us isn't going to help."

"But what if you can't-" the admiral interrupted him.

"There is no 'if.' I'm taking this to an airlock," Adama explained. He glanced the bomb and noticed that he had four minutes and thirty seconds left. "Go, and promise me that if this doesn't work, you'll take care of Laura and the baby," he requested gruffly.

"Dad, that's-"

"Promise me."

"I promise," Lee replied. Then he took Marley and headed toward the brig.

Adama moved faster, his heart pounding in his head. _I'm sorry, Laura_, he thought. He looked down at it again: two minutes left. And then he was there, thirty seconds left and he had found an airlock. Quickly he opened the first door and set the bomb down. Then he stepped back. _Please let this work_. After closing the first door, he opened the airlock and the bomb was sucked out into space. It exploded and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He met Lee in the brig. His son had been watching Marley and was leaving him with a guard when the door opened. Lee smiled at his father, glad to see him alive. "Now we need to find Laura," Adama remarked.

"We don't even know where she is," Lee pointed out.

_Don't you think I know that?_ "We'll find her; it just means we'll have to look harder," Adama said with a fortitude that would not be argued.

After her captor had left, Roslin tried to find the walls of wherever she was. Her hands hand been tied behind her back and as she found the wall with her shoulder, she rubbed her head against it so that she could loosen the blindfold. A few tries later, it became loose and fell to rest around her neck. She glanced at her new surroundings and sighed heavily.

The austere, Spartan room looked as though it had not been used in a few years. The room only contained a small narrow bed and a wooden chair. _How am I going to get out of here? If only I could figure out how to get the rope off my wrists_, she reasoned. As she continued to walk around the room, her thoughts returned to the admiral. _Bill, please be alright_.

Adama and Lee rounded a corner and spotted Sharon crouched by the mouth of another corridor, looking down the hallway. They approached her, not seeing anything suspicious. "Lieutenant, what is it?" the admiral asked.

Sharon stood and gestured for the other two to move out of sight. "I overheard a few guards talking this morning about Zarek breaking out. I think I saw the guy go into the bathroom. He's dressed like a priest. I was gonna follow him and then call security," she told the men in front of her.

"Following him might lead us to Laura," the admiral told his son.

"What happened to the president?" Sharon asked with concern.

"Zarek kidnapped her and tried to kill the admiral," Lee answered.

Just then they all noticed a man with brown hair wearing priest robes pull a hood over his head and as he walked down the corridor. "There he goes," Sharon whispered.

The three of them quietly followed the hooded man, moving whenever he turned to look behind him. They wandered through the ship for what felt like hours. Finally he turned down a rarely frequented corridor and unlocked a door. Sharon looked back at the admiral. "Sir, I think I should be the one to stop him first. I'll say I'm looking for a priest," she suggested.

Adama thought the idea over for a moment. "Sounds like a good plan."

Inside the room, Roslin glanced at the door as it opened. She raised an eyebrow, seeing a priest enter. "Excuse me, I need to get out of here and-"

Zarek pulled down the hood and eyed her with amusement. "Madame President, thank goodness I found you here! I got a tip that a man and a woman went this way. I see you've managed to bypass the blindfold. Too bad it won't do you any good. I just came by to tell you that they have apprehended your captor. I'm here to rescue you, but I'm in disguise in case there are more people involved. That, and I really need my name cleared."

She glared at him vehemently. "I know you were behind all this. You didn't supposedly find me. If you expect the Quorum to believe that farce over what I could tell them, you're sorely mistaken."

"I've been supporting half of them with funds and supplies that you've been rationing, and the other half I've made powerful allies with. They hear you, but they listen to me," he told her.

"When the admiral finds out about this-" the Sagittarian interrupted her.

"I forgot to tell you. He met with an accident, something to do with a bomb," he said mockingly. Thin he flashed an arrogant sinister grin. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

Anger reflected in her eyes. "You're lying."

"I'm afraid not. You see, it would have been nearly impossible to disarm the bomb, and therefore it would have to explode," he stated.

She continued to glare at him and took a deep breath before speaking in a quiet tone. "You're a vile parasite of a man," she seethed.

He shook his head. "No, the parasite is you, for having regained your life from Cylon DNA. You're a hypocrite. One day you're throwing them out an airlock, and then you use them to save your own life. You and the late admiral have also let a Cylon stay onboard. You two are more like collaborators than you'd like to admit. The Cylons on the inside are just as dangerous as the Cylons on the outside."

Her eyes narrowed. "You frakking scum. If I had my hands free-"

A knock at the door broke the conversation. Zarek pulled the hood back over and answered the door.

Sharon stood at the door as the hooded man opened it only a crack so that Roslin was well-concealed. "I need a priest," Sharon requested.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you right now," Zarek stated, trying to disguise his voice.

"I don't think you understand," Sharon commented, suddenly grabbing him by the collar and using her extra strength to pull him out of the room.

The hood fell back and he noticed the others standing behind the door, just before Adama's fist contacted with his jaw. "I think we've got all the proof we need," the admiral growled.

Lee looked at Sharon. "Thanks for your help, lieutenant."

She gave him a half-smile. "No problem, sir. Are we returning him to the brig?" Lee nodded in response.

Adama opened the door wide and spotted his wife. Overjoyed, he rushed over to her and pulled her into a hug. Then he took the rope off her hands. "Laura, are you alright?" he questioned.

The president nodded and grinned. "I'm fine," she paused before drawing him into an affectionate kiss. "Zarek said you were dead, and I heard about a bomb-"

Hearing the worry in her voice, he interrupted her by kissing her. "I threw the bomb out an airlock," he paused to run his fingers through her hair. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."

They stood, holding each other in a warm embrace for a while. Then they left the room, walking back to their quarters. He told her how Sharon had helped them. Zarek would be standing trial for treason, having been convicted of organizing sabotage, attempting to assassinate the chief of the military, kidnapping the president, and purposefully using the press as a weapon against her, attacking the current government.

A week after her kidnapping, Roslin knew that there were a few things that she needed to tell the fleet. Adama joined her and they stood with arms linked at the brief, but important press conference. She glanced over at him before it was to begin. "I don't know how all this will affect my presidency," she whispered.

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead, not caring who took a picture. "Whatever happens, we're in this together. I think they'll even want you for another term."

"Which means that we might have to find a babysitter," she added just before she was announced.

"Now, the President of the Twelve Colonies," a man said.

Roslin took a deep breath, looking composed and prepared. Adama tried not to smirk as he remembered how never she had been an hour ago, tearing speech cards, breaking pencils, and giggling again. "Ladies and gentlemen, I will begin by informing you of what will become of Mr. Zarek, as well as Mr. Marley. Both are currently standing trial, facing accusations of assassination and treason among other things."

"Madame President, what would you say to the many people who have trusted and supported Zarek?" a blonde reporter in a red dress suite asked.

"People have been sadly mislead and I hope to remedy that. This administration will continue to serve them in the survival of humanity," Roslin responded.

"Will you continue the mining, Ma'am?" a man with short cropped wearing a gray suit inquired.

"We will continue to mine asteroids as we move in order to keep up our supplies for repairs," the president answered. "Now I must bring up another matter," she paused to exchange a smile with Adama. "The admiral and I are expecting a baby."

The crowd's reactions varied from gasps of surprise, to squeals, applause, cameras flashing, and congratulatory shouts. One brown-haired woman in an indigo blue business dress asked the last question. "Ma'am, will you still continue to be president after the baby's born?"

"I will be president as long as the people will have me," Roslin replied.

The president and the admiral walked through the still-clapping crowd and eventually made their way back to their quarters. "That wasn't so bad," Adama remarked when they were both sitting on the couch.

She leaned him and he draped an arm over her shoulders. "I wonder if Tory would mind babysitting. She seems to be managing everything else well," Roslin added.

"Would be safer than working undercover," he mentioned.

"Dee would probably be another good choice. We might even switch off," she remarked.

He grinned. "Watching Lee chasing a toddler around is going to be fun. If he thinks the pilots are disorganized, I can't wait to see what he thinks of children."

She glanced around the room and faced him with a smirk. "Watching you chase a toddler around is going to be just as amusing because you have so many breakable things on low shelves," she pointed out, teasing him slightly.

Except for the usual encounters with the Cylons, the next four months stayed quiet. Zarek and Marley were confined to the brig for a month and then sentenced to maintenance jobs, fixing the damage caused by the sabotage. They were monitored by officers to ensure that nothing clandestine occurred. The Quorum was surprised at Roslin's pregnancy, but remembered that it was their fault and that she could not be removed from office for it. She and the admiral decided to have Dee and Lee over for dinner one evening.

The younger couple arrived early, while the others were still cooking. Roslin was boiling the noodles, fighting the white foam with a long wooden spoon. Adama shook his head and chuckled. "Just turn down the heat and you won't have to fight with the food."

She looked over to glare at him from where he stood, preparing garlic bread and salad, but ended up laughing. He walked over to her and put one arm around her growing waist, leaving his hand there. After turning down the heat with his other hand, he brought it back to meet with the other one. Both hands lovingly pressed against her, he could feel the baby kick.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of holding you like this," he whispered into her ear before kissing her neck. She giggled and leaned her head to give him better access.

Still standing in the living room, Dee looked toward the kitchen. "Since we know they're over there, I'm going to go say hi to them," she mentioned.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Lee warned his wife. She smiled and rolled her eyes as she headed into the kitchen.

She was just in time to hear Roslin say, "Neither would I." The president turned and kissed her husband soundly. He ran his hands up her back and kissed her back passionately, both of them being too busy to hear Dee.

"I see what you mean," Dee told Lee after hurrying out of the kitchen.

They would have continued kissing, except for the interrupting hiss of the pot threatening to boil over again. She turned back to it and stirred it until the mess of noodles was under control again. "We really should be more careful when we cook together. We're lucky we haven't burned anything yet," she pointed out with a grin.

"So far we also haven't made much of a mess either. We haven't cooked anything with flour yet," he reminded. She laughed and nodded.

Later they were all seated around the dinner table with noodles, red sauce, salad, and garlic bread. The four began by talking about books. "Laura, of what you've read, who do you think has the most interesting things to say?" Lee asked.

She swirled her noodles onto her fork and thought for a moment. "Colonel Acton is definitely interesting. Not only does he have good theories about ethics, but he also has some very amusing quotes," she replied.

"So you've been telling her about Uncle Louis?" Lee commented, looking at his father.

Roslin smirked and raised an eyebrow, turning toward her husband. "Uncle?"

Adama sighed, knowing he had been caught. "Louis Acton was my mother's brother," he admitted.

"'Required reading,' huh?" Roslin remarked chuckling.

"It was required reading. I just happened to be related to him," Adama responded, trying to defend himself.

Lee grinned. "It gets better too. Have you told her about Aunt Maggie?" the younger man probed.

"She wasn't in the quote book," the admiral replied evasively.

"That's because she submitted her husband's quotes after he died," Lee announced, turning back to Roslin. "Maggie Acton was a congresswoman, a real challenge from what I've heard."

Roslin kissed Adama on the cheek. "It seems like you're following a family tradition of military men who marry a politicians," she teased.

"That's because the men in my family have good taste once in a while," he told her with a wry grin before kissing her on the cheek.

"I've got a quote from Aunt Maggie: 'The measure of a man matters most when life gives him trials,'" Lee relayed.

"Very true," Dee added.

"And with the Cylons, we all get to prove that on a regular basis," Adama mentioned.

The president lifted her glass of water in a toasting gesture. "As we all know, it's important to remember in the interim the people that matter in our lives." The others smiled and toasted with her.

Roslin could see the chaos from the window of their quarters. Cylons and Vipers continued to battle in a flurry of range shots. Because Tory had cut her schedule into quarters as the due date for the baby approached, she was bored and had spend the last few days rearranging furniture and cleaning. I feel so useless in here, she thought as she stared out of the window, watching the battle.

She sighed and headed over to the bookshelf to find something. Another twinge at her abdomen caused her to pause. Dee's son Matthew had been born two days ago. She remembered the look of wonder and happiness in her husband's eyes when he had held his grandson. Roslin had been experiencing minor pains since she had awakened, but had not mentioned the matter to her husband, though they had steadily become sharper. As she read the first few pages of the book, a sharp pain distracted her. After breathing through it, she read a few more pages.

When the pain persisted, she decided that a walk to Life Station would be prudent. Having to pause every once in a while, she made the slow trek, not seeing many people pass by until she neared Life Station. People were wandering in with injuries, some not so bad, others had burns and bloody gashes.

Dr. Cottle had just left a patient with a broken arm when he turned and nearly bumped into Roslin. He took one look at her strained face and sighed, "Dammit, it's time, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I think so. Horrible timing, isn't it?"

"I'll try to set you up and give you as much privacy as I can. You wanna call your husband?" he asked.

After pausing for what she now was sure had been a contraction, she shook her head. "Bill's got enough on his mind with out having to worry about this," she rationalized. Cottle left her with one of the other medics and told her that he would be back to check on her. _Let us please get out of this Cylon mess soon_, she hoped.

The battle continued with Adama and Tigh orchestrating strategies in CIC. "Why won't they just let us have the frakking planet? There's nothing on it they want and we only need it for food," Tigh complained.

"They're only fighting us over it because it's something we want," Adama relayed.

The battle raged on for most of the day, with civilian ships jumping elsewhere for safety. A sharp hit to Galactica caused the admiral to hit his left hand on the same console that he had during the New Caprica rescue. "Not again," he growled in pain.

Finally a few of the Vipers were able to fire on a vulnerable spot on the Cylon's main ship and the enemy retreated, having lost most of its smaller ships. The crew in CIC cheered and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. A phone call interrupted the cheers and Adam answered it.

"Bill, your wife's here and she wants to talk to you," Cottle relayed.

Adama's eyes widened with worry. "Is she alright?"

Cottle smiled on his end. "She can tell you herself," he commented before handing the phone to Roslin.

"Bill," she said. To Adama, she sounded tired.

"Laura, what's wrong?" he questioned, the worry evident in his voice.

"Everything is fine. I have someone who wants to say hello to you," she conveyed. He raised an eyebrow and stared at the phone. Then he heard the cooing of a newborn baby and a grin broke through his stony reserve. "That was your daughter," Roslin told him. "Congratulations, Papa."

The admiral glanced at his bloody hand. "I'll be over there shortly." They said brief goodbyes and she gave him one more bit of information before they hung up.

Adama looked around at his officers in CIC with a proud smile. "It's a girl," he informed them.

They all cheered. Tigh clapped him on the back and handed him a small cigar. "You don't need to tell me. I'll keep an eye on things up here. Go see your family, Bill."

"Thanks, Saul," he said before leaving.

Roslin looked up from the infant in her arms, hearing a familiar voice asking Cottle where his wife was hiding. She smiled broadly as the admiral found her. He touched her cheek with his right hand and kissed her soundly. "I love you."

She kissed him back. "I love you too," she paused and noticed his hand. "Bill, your hand-"

"It'll be taken care of," he said simply, stepping aside for a minute as Cottle had a look at it and bandaged it.

"Sit with us," Roslin instructed. Adama sat down on the bed next to her. Then she handed him their daughter so that he did not need his left hand to support the infant.

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?" he questioned, his eyes not leaving the baby. _She's so small. This is why we fight, for hope and for the children_.

"Bill, you were in the middle of a battle and the last thing you needed to do was worry about me. She needs a name, you know," Roslin responded.

He thought for a moment. "We didn't really discuss that, did we?"

"I was thinking of 'Corrine' for a first name," she mentioned.

"That's fine. Hmm, now for a middle name," he stated.

She took the baby back and watched as the infant fell asleep. "'Maggie' is short for Margaret, right?" she asked him.

"It is in the case of Maggie Action," he replied.

"Then how about 'Corrine Margaret Adama?'" Roslin suggested.

He kissed his wife gently on the lips, then kissed is daughter on the head. "I think it's perfect."

They were still searching for earth two years later. Corrine was a precocious toddler, fingering anything at her level, with auburn hair like her mother and dark blue eyes like her father. Roslin was still president due to everyone's confidence in her as a leader. It had been Tory's turn to baby-sit and Roslin picked up her daughter when her day's work with the Quorum was finished.

She was sitting on the floor with Corrine, trying to show the toddler how to color when Adama walked into their quarters. The toddler waddled over to him and hugged his leg. He grinned and picked her up. Roslin stood shortly and walked over as well, kissing him affectionately. "How are the stars looking lately?" she asked him.

"We're closer to Earth than we've ever been before. We were definitely on the right track looking for the lion's head. I don't know how soon we'll reach Earth, but it looks more like a reality," he conveyed. "When we get there I'll build us a house and we can have a somewhat normal life," he suggested.

She chuckled and sighed with contentment. "We don't need a house for that. Everything I've ever needed has been here, with you, and now Corrine. This is our home," she remarked.

"It is, isn't it?" the three of them sat on the couch together. "I just remembered something the colonel used to say."

"Do you mean Uncle Louis?" she teased.

Adama nodded. "That's the one. He said, 'A soldier's home is where the people he loves are, even if it's in a war zone, at the bottom of a gully, or on the wrong side of a mountain. He has a home as long as he has someone to go home to.' My home is with the two of you," he conveyed before setting his squirming daughter down on the floor. As the toddler played with a few toys, her parents shared a few passionate kisses and the warm feeling that they had come home.

Fin……………………………………………………………………………………………………

(I'm sorry this last chapter took so long. I had several projects that needed to be finished by about the same time. I have enjoyed writing this story and I hope that you have had fun reading it. My thanks to carolann and divadarling, Jim Ohki, and jacky () for reviewing :D)


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